The Roommate's Sister
by TetraFish06
Summary: House/OFC  When House is hospitalized for a serious illness, he meets and becomes close to his roommate and the roommate's sister.  Is a relationship in store for them?
1. First Sighting

(NOTE: I do not own House, MD or any of the characters involved.)

The first time I saw him he was in the lobby of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital yelling at a woman with short, dark hair wearing an exceptionally tight business suit. I wondered what she could have possibly been thinking while shoving herself into the tight clothing.

He was wearing a funky t-shirt, a wrinkled blue button up, jeans, and Nike sneakers.

My brother and I were walking across the lobby towards the elevators so that we could go up to Dr. Wilson's office. We had been seeing an oncologist at another hospital back in Texas. I moved to New Jersey because the technology firm I work for transferred me.

He is actually my half brother and is about 25 years younger than me. His cancer took him through hell and back in the midst of his last two years of high school. Even though our parents (or rather his parents/my dad and stepmother) lived in a large home, he moved into my loft with me because our parents couldn't deal with his situation. They were always uncomfortable around him ever since he became visibly ill. I was always the one to wait outside the operating room, hold his hand through chemo, and wipe the sweat off his face as he vomited. Despite their lack of personal support, they put up money for the best doctors and treatment money can buy.

My brother had put up a huge fight against his stomach cancer and managed to fight off the cancer and graduate from high school at the same time. He was in remission for most of his senior year.

He moved to New Jersey with me because with everything he went through, he wasn't physically ready for college yet. Upon our moving to New Jersey, his oncologist recommended Dr. Wilson for my brother's follow ups. This was our second meeting with Dr. Wilson. My brother's cancer was back and we both know he would probably be admitted today.

We stared, like half the other people scurrying through the lobby, whenever the middle aged man cracked a wooden cane against the reception desk and seemed to be demanding something from tight suit woman.

She scowled at him and told him, "You are not cutting into this woman's brain so you can just go up to your office, pout, and play with your balls until you can come up with another idea."

I gathered she was his boss, but found it quite strange for any boss to suggest that someone play with their balls while at work. I exchanged looks with my brother to see a slight smirk on his face and realize he was contemplating the same thing.

The scruffy man turned and charged towards the elevator with a fairly prominent limp. My mind immediately wondered what was wrong with his leg. I've always been a nosy person, but this man struck me as particularly interesting.

He stabbed the elevator button with his cane. I wondered if we should hang back to wait for another elevator, but we were already at the elevator banks. When the elevator opened, he stormed in. We reluctantly edged into the elevator behind him.

I glanced at him because I figured it was only courteous to ask what floor he was headed to. Based on his display in the lobby I half-way wondered if he had red demon eyes and breathed fire. I was surprised to see that he was slumped against the elevator wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Previously I was frightened of this man, but now I found myself tempted to ask if he was okay. I decided against it and just asked, "Floor?" He wearily opened his eyes again and muttered, "Four." We were headed to the same place, so I punched the button and waited. I watched him from the corner of my eye wondering if I should be prepared to catch him if he keeled over in the elevator.

His abrupt change in demeanor as soon as he entered the elevator only increased my fascination.

I noticed he was tall with very muscular arms. I found myself checking his left hand to see if a ring was present. I internally scowled at myself and reminded myself that I was here to support my brother, not scout for men!

As the doors opened I was surprised to see him thrust himself into an upright position. The only evidence of his previous weariness was a slight shaking of his right arm and a wobble from his leg before he exited the elevator. He stormed off the elevator and headed down the hall before I had a chance to blink. I'm not really sure why, but I found myself hoping that I would see him again.


	2. Ready for Work

House had spent half the night getting up and down because he kept needing to pee. A while back he diagnosed himself with a bladder infection and got Wilson to prescribe antibiotics. Despite taking the antibiotics, the infection seemed to be worse. He was starting to notice some blood in his urine. While he knew bloody urine wasn't common with a bladder infection, House was so caught up in his current case that he was following his usual habit of ignoring his own body. After all, House was used to living in constant pain since the infarction.

Ever since he detoxed from the vicodin, he tried to tell himself that the pain had improved. In reality, House knew the pain seemed to be getting worse.

At about 7:30 (an early morning for House) his cell phone began to ring. Unfortunately it was Taub updating him on the patient's latest crisis. He hung up on Taub and groaned as he pulled himself into a sitting position blindly groping for the highly ineffective ibuprofen on his nightstand. Throwing the ibuprofen back, House eased his legs over the side of the bed. Lately he had been feeling pain in his right hip and increasing fatigue in both thighs. He was starting to suspect arthritis from the strange gait he had adopted ever since the infarction and that the additional thigh pain was from attempts to compensate. This morning, the pain was the worst it had been since detox and he figured he should probably get an MRI to look at the area causing this extreme pain. The only problem with that would be he would actually have to tell someone. If only he could be in the MRI machine and running the test at the same time. Unfortunately, MRIs weren't designed as self-serve equipment.

If he told Wilson about the pain, he would probably drive him nuts about it. He'd probably plop him down in a wheelchair until he made sure there was no additional damage, want to check for further clots, and generally torture him with sad puppy eyes and paranoia. That kind of fun could just wait.

He figured a hot shower might work and that he should get his butt to work because this latest case was getting more interesting. The hot shower helped a bit. As he eased his clothes on, he wondered if he would even be able to get onto his motorcycle today. He decided he should take the car since he'd be doing good just to get out to the car, into the hospital, past Cuddy, and to his office.

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	3. Cut in Line at the MRI

I have a tendency to write short chapters, so I am going to go ahead and post a couple. (I still don't own House)

As he pulled into the hospital parking lot, he decided a brain biopsy was the next logical step for diagnosing the patient.

This request would tick Cuddy off. As far as House was concerned, ticking Cuddy off was always and added bonus with any procedure. He knew he would have to clear it with Cuddy and that he might as well do that before going up to the office – at least he'd save a few steps.

House took a deep breath before getting out of the car. House always held a firm stance that his coworkers must never see him hurting. At least it wasn't icy today so he got into the building fairly quickly.

He carefully schooled his expression into an arrogant scowl and charged up to Cuddy who was standing by the main desk. He slapped his cane against the counter and proceeded to demand a brain biopsy.

He realize slapping the cane against the counter was a very bad idea as he almost lost his balance before he could get the cane under him, but he figured that Cuddy was mad enough at his demand to not notice his momentary scramble to remain upright.

Cuddy refused him the test and he wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain such a confident front. Normally he would put up a fight, but he figured his goal should be making it to his office as the hip pain was starting to ramp up and annoy his lower back.

After all, a difference from their status quo arguments might throw Cuddy for a loop.

He hurried to the elevator and stabbed the button with far more bravado than he actually felt.

As soon as it opened and he was away from prying eyes he sagged against the elevator wall and reached towards his hip as if that would help with the pain.

He realized he hadn't indicated a floor, but just then two people entered the elevator. He didn't know them, so he didn't particularly care if they knew he felt like crud. He figured he'd let them press the floor. His fierce independence would just have to take a vacation for today.

He noticed the woman had one of the hottest butts he had ever seen and he wondered if her boobs had even close to the same appeal, but she was faced at an angle where he couldn't see her boobs. If he was feeling better, he would have antagonized her into turning around so that he could get a view, but he didn't have the energy.

He grunted out a "Four" so that they could select the floor.

He noticed they were heading for the same floor. He allowed his nosiness to run amuck as he speculated on their potential purpose on the fourth floor.

Maybe he would see the woman again later and he could get a frontal boob view. Goal for the day!

He figured he should put his grouch persona back on so that he could deal with the fellows without looking as wimpy as he felt.

He went into his office and propped himself against the whiteboard so that he could berate the fellows into giving out enough ideas so that he could decide on a plan for the patient.

Chase and Taub exchanged looks silently wondering what had crawled up House's rear today to put him in such a bad mood.

Foreman noticed his mood, but he also noticed he was heavily sweating and getting pale. Foreman's diagnostic bells were going off for more than just the patient.

As the differential went on, House contemplated which fellow would be the best candidate to get an MRI from.

He thought about just getting an X-Ray, but he wanted to get a decent look at the thigh while he was at it and an MRI would give him a more thorough diagnostic picture.

House decided Foreman would be his best option. He didn't spend enough time around Wilson that he would be likely to tell him and he wasn't overtly caring so he wouldn't be likely to get all mushy and nosey about the pain.

Once decisions were made about the patient the fellows began to file out of the office. House made a quick decision and called Foreman back.

While the fellow's backs were turned House eased himself into the nearest chair at the conference table. They weren't comfortable, but they were better than standing. He faced away from the glass wall so that nobody would see his face.

Foreman heard his boss and turned back curiously.

House's back was now to the door so Foreman just hollered, "What?"

House quietly said, "Come here."

Foreman figured the other two fellows could handle the grunt work themselves and hoped that House might have some more interesting ideas about the patient.

House hadn't yakked through the differential as much as usual so Foreman hoped he might get to do some sort of dangerous test House didn't want the team knowing about.

"I need a hip MRI."

Well, that was less than exciting.

Foreman wondered if House was off his rocker, or at least more so than usual, "The patient's symptoms are most likely coming from his brain or spinal column."

House berated him, "For me, you idiot! Go to radiology and see how soon you can book the MRI. ASAP – I'll even grant you permission to cut in line."

"You always tell us to cut in line," Foreman reminded him with a scowl.


	4. Casey

I will go ahead and tell you that I am not a medical expert. I have done quite a bit of research for this story, but there are most likely some errors. I do intend for this to be an uncommon case, though, so things may be a bit abnormal. If anything is confusing, please let me know!

Chapter 4  
Wilson browsed through the file of the patient he was about to see. He liked to start seeing patients when they were originally diagnosed and manage their treatment plan from the start, but situations weren't always ideal.

Casey Black – Wilson made a point of remembering patient's names even if his best friend didn't. His sister was the caregiver – he had originally assumed she was the patient's mother based on the age difference. Wilson figured their mom must have remained fertile for a good long while to pop two kids out with such an age gap between them. 'One of these days I'll be just as nosey as House.'

Wilson scowled and shook his head to get House's thoughts out of his mind.

Wilson racked his brain to remember her name. WOMAN WITH THE GREAT BOOBS was never a good title to use with patient's family members. Oh yes, Claudia was her name.

Their first appointment had been brief and was mostly just a session for ordering tests. Considering the previous appointment was Friday and Wilson had scheduled this appointment for the next Monday Wilson assumed the patient had already figured out that the cancer was back.

Casey's previous doctors had managed to get him into remission long enough for the kid to graduate high school. Although Wilson would have followed a different treatment plan, the doctor obviously wasn't a total moron.

After all the time Wilson spent around House he was starting to develop the default position that doctors he didn't know were morons. 'How did House manage to worm his way into my brain?'

With the late diagnosis (common with stomach cancer) and the size of the original cancer Wilson would have probably removed the entire stomach, but this doctor had only removed about a third and then hit the kid with enough chemo to sink a battleship.

Wilson could understand the merits of not wanting to inflict a lifetime of digestive issues on a teenager, but even a third of the stomach would cause plenty of issues.

The kid's cancer probably would have just cropped up somewhere other than the stomach. Wilson sighed and often wondered why he had chosen such a bleak specialty.

The other doctor's choices were irrelevant now, so Wilson just needed to come up with a treatment plan for the kid now.

Cuddy told him that he needed to take great caution with this case as the parents had apparently donated a huge sum of money to the hospital that treated the kid prior to their move to Jersey. Did Cuddy think he didn't use caution with all his patients?

It seemed that all Cuddy saw were dollar signs while Wilson saw the patient. I guess this was the classic admin VS. doctor differences that House was always ranting about.

Wilson outlined a couple of treatment plans and then grabbed a snack before the patient arrived.

Wilson was surprised he hadn't received a visit, or rather invasion, from House by now. He had heard that House created quite a spectacle in the lobby this morning. As if that was a surprise – still it would give the nurses a hot gossip topic for the day. Unfortunately, every shift change the incoming nurses would probably learn more about House's antics than the patients they would be monitoring.

Wilson heard a loud knock on his door. "Come in!"

Wilson headed for the couch area. When things were about to get rough he liked to make sure that the patient was comfortable and the setting was low key.

He shook hands with Claudia.

Casey ignored his hand and unceremoniously plunked himself on the couch without even being asked and said, "Let's get this show on the road. What's the torture plan?"

Wilson saw Claudia send him a warning glance. "Hello Dr. Wilson."

Casey just rolled his eyes.

Wilson went ahead and ditched his plan for his classic gentle touches on the arm and sympathetic eyes. He wasn't going to have to tell him he was dying, but things were pretty bleak.

He cut to the chase and laid out the facts, "I think our best option is to remove the stomach. The cancer appears to be confined to the stomach at this time. There is a tumor in the upper portion of your stomach this time and that increases the danger to the rest of your body. Last time the tumor was in the lower portion of your stomach so a partial removal and other treatments got you into remission. This cancer is too advanced to do a laparoscopic removal, so you will need an open surgery. We will create an incision across the abdomen. We will reconstruct your gastric system as much as possible after removing the stomach."

Before Wilson could even finish his treatment plan, Casey broke in, "When?"

"I would like to do this as soon as possible."

Claudia ignored her brother, "What happens after the stomach removal?"

"I will insert a feeding tube so that we can keep his nourishment adequate. He will need to keep his strength up because I am recommending chemotherapy and radiation of the surrounding area. If we weren't doing cancer treatments, we might have been able to try things without a feeding tube, but the cancer treatments will be very rough on his body.

"Even though the cancer is confined to the stomach, studies have shown that his long-term prognosis is best with additional treatments beyond just removal of the stomach. Last time he had the cancer treatments prior to the partial stomach removal. I believe we need to go ahead and get the stomach out as quickly as possible since the cancer seems to be confined. We will not be able to watch the cancer for response to the chemo, but I am also concerned that he might be too weak after treatments to undergo a full stomach removal."

"Will he always have the feeding tube?" Claudia asked. Casey was listening and taking it all in, but seemed a lot calmer than his sister.

"It will take a while for the gastric reconstruction to heal, but most patients can consume small meals. With the side effects associated with cancer treatments, the healing process will probably be slow. With careful diet, the feeding tube can usually come out at some point. It can often take time, but the feeding tube is of course under your clothing and is quite small. Most people would never realize it is there."

Claudia seemed relieved.

This was a common concern amongst patients. Consuming meals in a liquid, prescription form through a tube in your abdomen is not exactly appealing.

Casey glared at his sister. "Back to my previous question, when do we do this?"

"I would like to admit you today so that we can begin flushing your digestive tract. We can give you IV fluids and nutrients in the meantime, but you will not be able to eat or drink for a while."

Casey interrupted with a scowl, "The whole flushing the digestive tract thing kinda gives that part away."

Well, this kid was certainly pleasant. Wilson figured it was the stress of his impending surgery.

Wilson continued the rest towards Claudia, "Technically, we could send him home with medications to drink that would flush his tract, but I still need further tests and I would rather be able to admit him and monitor him here. Once we know that his digestive tract is clear, we will proceed with the surgery."

Wilson and Claudia continued to discuss treatment plans, side effects, length of hospital stay, etc. until Casey abruptly stood up and headed for the office door.

"Casey, where are you going?" Claudia asked.

"If you two are going to keep talking I figured I might as well go find the admissions department myself."

Wilson quickly followed, "Well we can finish this discussion on the way to admissions."

"Unfortunately, we have some construction on a portion of the hospital and I will not be able to give you a private room." Wilson cringed to await his reply. Cuddy had said that the family had a good deal of money and Wilson found that the wealthy patients usually insisted on private rooms.

"I would rather share a room so that I at least have someone else to gawk and stare at. Ideally find someone in serious condition so that I can watch the traffic of doctors and nurses travel in and out. Of course, the cancer ward is usually a good place to find the seriously ill. Make sure it isn't someone likely to have morons visiting – I've found that academics or professionals tend to be the most interesting roommates. Make sure that they aren't too near death because then they might die on me once I start to get really interested. The comatose aren't interesting because then I can't talk to them or annoy them. Comatose patients don't have near as many visitors or as much action in their rooms."

That was probably the strangest response Wilson had ever heard regarding room arrangements. They had reached admissions so Wilson bid them farewell and awkwardly replied, "Well, I'll see what I can do."

Thanks for reading - please review if you have time - constructive criticism is always welcome or even just to let me know that you are reading so that I can post more.


	5. Wipeout

Foreman turned and trudged toward radiology. Radiology was fairly deserted so Foreman headed up to the desk and asked the attendant to show him the schedule. He flashed her a quick smile and she handed it over. He noticed a one hour window around lunch. Apparently the radiology tech was too lazy to run MRIs during lunch nowadays. Foreman was sure House would want him to run the MRI himself, so Foreman just wrote booked across the schedule and told the attendant to enter it in the computer.

He turned to leave and she asked, "Patient name?" Foreman sped up his pace and ignored her. He figured House would want this kept low profile and he certainly didn't want to spur House's mood into something even worse.

As he went back to the conference room, Foreman remembered how "off" House had looked this morning and his diagnostic bells were once again ringing. Trying to figure House and his behaviors out was often more interesting than the patients. Foreman would never tell House, but he was secretly fascinated with House, his genius, and his eccentric habits.

Foreman even caught himself starting to care about House. Foreman shook his head and got that mentality out of his system. When he approached the office, Foreman was surprise to see House slumped at the conference table exactly where he left him. He figured he would be in his office watching soaps by now.

When Foreman swung the conference door open, House jumped slightly and let out a soft grunt. Foreman was about to just tell House to meet him in radiology, but he noticed House was even paler now. He went to grab some coffee while discretely watching House. "We've got the MRI in 20 minutes."

House saw Foreman watching him and wondered if he did indeed look as bad as he felt. House pushed himself to a standing position and found himself swaying until he caught himself with his cane. Foreman took an abrupt step towards House and realized it was a big mistake when he saw House's glare. House left the office toward radiology with Foreman trailing behind.

Foreman tossed House a gown and headed into the control room. When House didn't appear again for a while, Foreman was considering whether he should go look for him. Just as Foreman rose to check things out House limped slowly towards the MRI machine. As House positioned himself Foreman came over the speaker, "What all are we getting?"

"Hip/pelvis area and thighs."

"What are we looking for?"

"None of your business, just run the damn test. Take thin slices."

Foreman decided that was all the answers he would get. "House, hold still. I'm starting."

"I've had an MRI before, I'm not a moron! It sounds like you may be, though."

Foreman sighed and shut the speaker off. House was definitely irritable. House was never a fuzzy bundle of joy to spend time with, but Foreman chalked this extra delightfulness up to increased pain.

House now found himself longing for Wilson to come over the speaker as THE VOICE OF GOD.

Foreman's pager started going off – he needed to call Taub. Foreman quit watching for MRI results and started consulting with Taub. Just as the MRI completed Foreman received a page that the patient was crashing. Foreman resolved to check House's results later.

He turned on the speaker. "House, MRI is over, patient is crashing, meet me in the patient room." With that, Foreman left the control room to head for the patient's room.

The MRI was finally over. House was starting to wonder if he might wet himself. He looked to the control booth and saw that Foreman was already gone. He was relieved that nobody was there to see him struggle off the MRI table.

After a marginally successful attempt at urination, House got his clothes back on and hurried towards the patient room. There's nothing like the adrenaline offered by critically ill patients.

The fellows had no idea that Foreman had been conducting an MRI or that House and Foreman had been together. Foreman hurried into the room to see Taub hard at work on the patient.

"Sinus rhythm is back" Chase muttered as a collective sign went around the room.

"Where's House?" Chase asked Foreman.

"I paged him" seemed to be as good an answer as any.

The doctors began to file out of the room just as House appeared turning the corner. Foreman noticed how heavily House was leaning on his cane even though the other fellows seemed to take no note.

House always insisted he was fine and the fellows got in the habit of ignoring anything physical that House might be going through. As House approached a small boy came running out of a nearby patient room after visiting some relative.

"Children are not SUPPOSED to be visiting right now" Taub scowled.

After that things seemed to go in slow motion. The child abruptly changed directions and was heading directly for House.

"What happened?" House shouted at the fellows as he approached with his focus totally on them and the patient.

"Watch ou…" was all Foreman got out before the little brat collided with House's cane.

Unfortunately, House was mid-stride and about to place his weight on the cane and his right leg. His right leg buckled resulting in a spectacular wipe-out with most of his weight landing on his thigh and hip. Foreman winced for House.

The child was forgotten as Chase and Taub seemed to be pondering if they should offer to help House up or stand back and avoid his wrath.

Since Foreman did the MRI this morning, things had been niggling at the back of his brain. Ignoring the others, Foreman ran towards House and kneeled at his side.

When Foreman saw that House was no longer conscious he realized this wasn't like the missteps they had seen House take in the past.

He noticed that House didn't hit his head, so he really shouldn't be unconscious. Foreman had just been expecting some bruises, obscenities yelled at the child, and a highly disgruntled House. Judging from House's behavior this morning, he was in a lot of pain to begin with today.

Foreman quickly took charge, "Taub, get Wilson! Chase, get over here!"

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Claudia's thoughts are in 'apostrophes' while the dialogue is in "quotes"

Claudia sat next to Casey's bed working on her laptop. Fortunately her job allowed her to work on her own schedule and wherever she wanted. This was a big help through all of Casey's previous treatments and she had a feeling it would be a big help now. Here boss was always pretty understanding of Casey's situation.

Casey had just hurried to the bathroom for another session on the porcelain throne. Claudia hated to see him suffer, but knew that this was only the beginning of his latest battle.

Claudia leaned towards the door so that she could listen to the latest gossip. Claudia always got a kick out of the inner workings of the hospital in Texas and all of the personalities involved. Who needs Prescription Passion when a regular soap opera was always unfolding in the hall? Casey spent so much in-patient time in Texas that hospital stays became a part of her life. She suspected that hospitals in Jersey contained plenty of excitement, too.

She knew Casey would deny it, but Claudia knew he hated being in the hospital alone. She always spent as much time as she could with him. She figured she might as well soak up the gossip and make the best of it.

Two nurses were currently in the hall for a shift change. "Did you hear about the latest House/Cuddy spectacle in the lobby?"

"Marsha from ICU already told me. Apparently he was whacking the counter with his cane and everything."

Claudia perked up realizing that this must be about the sexy guy from the elevator. 'I wonder if he had a nice time playing with his balls this morning - I would have enjoyed helping him out' Claudia fantasized for a moment.

The other nurse continued, "I saw the whole showdown on my way in. I could just envision the muscles rippling under his T-shirt as he swung that cane around."

'I could envision those muscles, too. Using the cane he must have quite a build under that shirt' Claudia thought to herself.

The nurse continued, "If he wasn't such a jerk he would have the nurses crawling all over him...literally"

"Instead, everyone goes for his best friend."

Claudia was wondering who his best friend must be.

"Wilson has those sweet puppy-dog eyes, but..."

'Wilson!' Claudia wondered if she meant Casey's doctor.

"...he doesn't have that blue fire and ice combination that House does."

'His name must be House!' Claudia found herself irrationally upset that she hadn't gotten a good look at his eyes.

"Last time House was ranting at me about something I apparently did I almost reached forward and grabbed his butt. Those eyes just turn me on. It's a shame that his personality comes along with them..."

The nurse's voices faded down the hall. Claudia didn't have much time to ponder this new information because Casey came stumbling out of the bathroom dragging his IV pole. Back on task

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	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Wilson was finishing off some paperwork from admitting an 18 year old cancer patient, Casey Black, when the door busted open. Wilson looked up fully expecting House to arrive with lunch demands. Wilson was quite surprised to see Taub.

"Wilson, House fell!" Taub stated with harried breathing.

"What do you mean?"

"He was coming down the hall when a kid collided with his cane. He's not conscious."

As soon as Wilson heard that House was unconscious, he darted into the hall, "Where is he? Did he hit his head?"

"No, I don't think so." Taub replied as Wilson followed him down the hall.

As Taub and Wilson arrived at the scene Foreman and Chase were securing House onto a gurney being held by two orderlies. Cuddy was flitting about with her cell-phone to her ear.

When Wilson approached and was able to pick out the words, "Dr. Mathis…hip and pelvic area…severe" he knew things must not be good.

Dr. Mathis was the head of orthopedic surgery. Wilson admired her greatly. Although she was the head of orthopedic surgery, she also held a specialty in oncology. They had engaged in many a debate about clinical trials and various cancer treatments.

Cuddy shut her phone and turned to the other doctors, "Get him to the ER for assessment – Dr. Mathis is meeting us down there."

Chase, Cuddy, Wilson, and the orderlies all headed to the ER with House's gurney

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	8. Chapter 8

*I never really clarified, but the House/Cuddy dating thing does not exist in my story. House and Cuddy are friends/coworkers. This does happen after Mayfield and without Vicodin, but I am not specifying a precise episode*

I enjoy writing Foreman's character. I think that there is a lot more complexity to him that we often don't see on the show. Am I writing him out of character? Maybe, but it isn't my intent. I just like trying to get inside the characters' heads. I think of Foreman as someone whose brain runs ninety miles an hour and I have tried to capture that. A lot of this a streaming commentary of Foreman's thoughts.

Chapter 8

(While House is being taken to the ER for evaluation)

Foreman abruptly remembered the MRI from earlier and turned to radiology to grab the results.

Everyone would be looking for damage from the fall, but what if there was an underlying problem?

Why did House ask for the MRI to begin with?

Foreman turned toward radiology to hunt down the results.

Foreman's diagnostic brain was running as he headed for radiology. The more he thought about it, Foreman realized he had seen many changes in House over the past month or so.

WEIGHT LOSS

INCREASED SWEATING

INCREASED LIMP AND/OR PAIN

HIP?

EXHAUSTION

PALLOR

FREQUENT TRIPS TO RESTROOM? BLADDER OR BOWEL ISSUE?

IRRITABILITY – MORE THAN USUAL – POSSIBLY CAUSED BY EXTRA PAIN

Foreman arrived at radiology and pulled up the scans. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.

This was definitely not what he was expecting to find.

Foreman's eyes immediately jumped to a large tumor in House's prostate and what appeared to be a sizable growth in his pelvic girdle.

Hopefully these were benign growths.

He needed blood from House. With blood he could go ahead and test for cancer markers – it wouldn't be a particularly definite test, but it could help them decide on a biopsy plan.

Had the fall jarred the area and caused House enough pain to pass out? He knew that prostate cancer sometimes causes a feeling of leg weakness. Was that why House wanted the MRI? Did that affect his fall?

Foreman thought he had noticed House taking lots of trips to the bathroom – that could indicate prostate cancer …or a large cup of coffee. It did seem like they had been going through a lot of coffee in the office lately.

Foreman was getting way ahead of himself – why did he always speculate on the worst case scenario?

He was obviously spending too much time around House.

If the prostate tumor was cancerous, the other growth might be a bone malignancy.

Perhaps the prostate tumor was benign, but then what the heck was the other thing he was looking at?

Judging from the prostate, it was highly unlikely that the other growth could be primary bone cancer.

If his bones were affected by secondary cancer then large amounts of calcium would have been released into his bloodstream by the surrounding area.

Foreman could test calcium levels in his blood.

A benign growth in the pelvic area would be like a horse. Should he really be looking for zebras? Working with House made him want to look for zebras by default.

This had to be a horse, right?

As annoyed as Foreman often got with his boss, he didn't want a zebra rampaging through House's hip.

That just sounded awkward.

Wilson would have a cow when he saw this. He was probably already having a cow in the ER. Are cows more like horses or zebras? Maybe it depends on if it is a Guernsey cow. Irrelevant…

After staring at the MRI images for a moment, he gathered everything up and headed for the ER.

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	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When Foreman arrived in the ER it was practically deserted. He looked around and immediately noticed where House was - the scene playing out in front of him would be hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that House might be sick or hurt.

The dean of medicine was awkwardly standing there with a pair of surgical scissors and Houses's damaged pants and boxers. Apparently she had been the one to cut his lower clothes off. Foreman noticed a strange blue pattern on the boxers…you notice the strangest things sometimes. House will probably be pissed when he finds at that his clothes were cut off. Foreman noticed what appeared to be a big, red guitar across the boxers. He never pictured House wearing "fancy" boxers - you notice the strangest things sometimes. House will probably be pissed when he finds out that his clothes were cut off.

His right sneaker was in Taub's hand and Taub was, well, Foreman had no idea what he was doing.

Chase was approaching with a portable X-ray machine.

Dr. Mathis, the head of orthopedic surgery, was probing around near House's right thigh. One of Mathis's residents was standing across from her probing House's left hip and a second resident was reaching towards House's right hip.

The "Weird Night Janitor Who Wears His Pants Backwards" was standing there with a roll of paper towels. Foreman had no idea what he was doing there in the middle of the day.

Wilson was…chewing on his fingernails and rubbing the back of his neck simultaneously. He was also pacing – it looked like an awkward multi-tasking exercise where none of the tasks actually accomplish anything. All he needed now was some chewing gum and to started patting his head and rubbing his stomach.

A nurse Wilson didn't recognize was attaching leads to House's chest and affixing a pulse-oximeter.

Another nurse was starting an IV line and hanging what was most likely saline.

Chase parked the X-ray machine and was heading towards Foreman, so he suggested Chase go check on their patient – the one House was headed for when it all went South. Foreman had a feeling there might be too many cooks in the kitchen.

"Taub, can you draw some of House's blood?" That would get the ball rolling there. Taub grabbed a blood-draw kit and returned with the sneaker still in hand. He looked around confusedly, but eventually set the sneaker to the side so that he could wash his hands and glove up.

Foreman noticed the nurse starting House on oxygen and what appeared to be another bag of fluids so he figured House must be getting shocky.

Mathis was giving her residents instructions for X-ray angles and exactly what images she needed.

Foreman was wondering how he should drop the bomb regarding the MRI results.

Here goes, "Wilson, these are some results from an MRI I did on House earlier today."

"Why didn't I know about these? Why did House want an MRI? Why would he ask you?"

Wilson seemed to be wondering why he hadn't been asked to perform tests Wilson seemed to be wondering why House hadn't asked him to perform the tests. It was probably because of Wilson's aimless fretting right now.

Foreman ignored these questions from Wilson.

Cuddy approached as well. She looked strange carrying around boxers and jeans that had been cut in half. Wilson and Cuddy both approached. Once the residents started X-rays Mathis turned towards Foreman as well.

He saw Chase come back into the ER - patient must be fine.

Taub walked up carrying a tray now filled with vials of blood – Foreman realized those vials could tell them something really bad or bring good news..

At least everyone would find out at once.

Foreman took a deep breath and began to share his findings… Foreman took a deep breath and began to dig out films and explain what he found.

Foreman didn't get far before one of the orthopedic residents yelled out, "We've got an emergency on our hands."


	10. Chapter 10

(I still don't own House and this is just for fun)

"We've got a problem."

All eyes shifted back to the gurney. The residents were currently viewing portable x-ray results and looking at House's thigh.

"There is a femoral shaft fracture. When you splinted it on scene it was stable. The damage muscles in his thigh have started to spasm – something shifted." Mathis's residents seemed capable as they summed up their findings.

The doctors realized that the remaining muscle was creating a vibrating ripple effect and the leg was turning dark – like blood rapidly filling beneath the skin.

"We think bone fragments have shifted onto a blood vessel and it is now bleeding profusely into the surrounding area."

Cuddy jumped in, "He's been on mild blood thinners ever since the infarction."

Mathis calmly stated, "Then we've got a definite problem. Is he allergic to any medications?"

When no response came, Mathis continued, "Felt, inject a targeted paralytic directly into the scarred area. We don't want to paralyze him systematically, but we've got to get that muscle still. We don't have time for further testing. Book an OR, we're opening him up."

Wilson was in a panic and his medical sensibilities were obviously out the window, "Based on the external evaluation, his hip may need surgery as well. Should we wait and do it all at once?"

Mathis and her residents were already guiding the gurney out of the ER.

"No time, for all we know the bleeding will continue and a fragment could be pinching a nerve. The last thing we need is for him to have more nerve damage to his right leg. I'm sure he already has enough nerve pain from the debridement after the infarction," Mathis explained as if this was obvious.

It should have been obvious to all the doctors present.

Rationally, Wilson knew that enough pressure to break the femur could also cause substantial vascular, nerve, and soft tissue damage.

House was high risk for this type of damage because he had little protection or "cushioning" because of the missing muscle. House was so slim there certainly wasn't any "padding" from fat!

House's luck certainly predicted what came next. House's eyelids began to flutter. The sudden trauma of the spasms must have triggered him awake. With a series of whimpers he began to shift on the gurney. He was trying to turn and reach for his right thigh.

All of this movement was a disaster waiting to happen. Mathis grabbed House's hands and stopped the gurney.

"You're okay. Squeeze my hand. We're going to get you fixed up, deep breaths."

House was so out of it that he blearily attempted to obey through the pants and whimpers. Everyone knew it was bad because House never attempted to obey or let people touch him when it wasn't totally necessary.

Mathis immediately regretted asking him to squeeze her hand. Adrenaline was not always a good thing!

With the hand not in House's clutches Mathis ripped the sheet off of House's lower body in the middle of the hall.

House would be mortified if he knew his manhood was exposed in the open air for all to see. His greater fear would probably be the fact that his scarred thigh was also visible.

He was way too out of it to even notice.

From where Foreman was standing he saw House's pelvic bone shift underneath his skin.

Foreman heard it scrape in his mind. Just the thought was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Mathis turned to the residents, "He's doing more damage! Grab a damn sedative before he shifts everything out of whack."

Dr. Felt had already run for a syringe before Mathis even ordered it.

He reappeared and plunged the medication home.

House began to droop and cease movement.

"Let's go!" Mathis ordered as the gurney began to move. "Somebody get several units of blood ready in the OR."

"I'm on it." Taub sprang into action.

Wilson, Foreman, Chase, and Cuddy all followed like some sort of procession.

A funeral procession flitted through Foreman's mind, but he quickly squashed that thought away.

His mental image changed to a bridal procession with House as the bride, Mathis the father of the bride, and himself, Chase, and Cuddy as bride's maids. Of course, Wilson brought up the rear as ring bearer. Foreman shook that image out of his head – now that was distressing.

House's gurney was now being pushed into the OR. Mathis and her residents broke off to get scrubbed in.

Mathis ran everything smoothly, "Get a scope set up for me – I want a look around so I know where I'm cutting."

Several techs scurried to get everything set up.

Mathis yelled out, "Foreman, scrub in! I want you available to look for neurological damage."

Foreman rapidly shook the image of his boss writhing in pain out of his head and replaced him with a faceless patient. He couldn't allow himself to think that they were about to dig into House's thigh.

This must become a random patient in Foreman's mind. People like Wilson could never create that separation, but Foreman thought he could – for a while.

Mathis began to talk as they scrubbed in, "A fall like this never should have caused this much damage to his femur - it's one of the strongest bones in the body. Even with his muscle damage, this is weird."

Foreman had spent so much time considering the prostate tumor and the tumor in the pelvic girdle that the femur had barely crossed his mind.

He figured he should tell Mathis, "Whenever I did the MRI this morning, there was a substantial shadow near the right femur. I figured it was associated with the damage from the infarction."

Mathis jumped in, "His infarction site should not have shown up like that. There must have been damage to the femur before the fall."

It seemed that no matter how much medicine Foreman studied or how many patients he treated, there were still so many things he didn't know. He had just assumed the shadow had something to do with House's infarction. I guess he should stop making assumptions - he thought he was past that point in his career!

By the time the doctors were scrubbed in and entering the OR, the nurses had already cleansed House's leg with iodine and draped him. The anesthesiologist nodded that House was ready to go.

"I'm going to cut in through the side of the thigh and take a look. I want to avoid cutting through the depression and scarring from the infarction if we can. "

Mathis smoothly made an incision less than an inch long and inserted the scope. Foreman looked at the screen and immediately saw the problem.

Mathis saw the problem as well. "The problem is actually being caused by a tumor on the femur. When the muscle spasms started, it was the tumor that shifted causing the blood loss. We've got to get the tumor out. Foreman, keep checking the pulses in his leg."

Foreman felt for pulses. "Nothing here"

Mathis nodded and replied, "The blood flow was blocked when the tumor shifted and the bone punctured the artery. All the blood is flowing from the puncture because it has to go somewhere and it can't travel through the artery that the tumor is blocking. Once we get the tumor away from the artery, blood should flow that way again and slow the spilling through the puncture. Path of least resistance – it's physics."

Mathis was still searching with the scope. "We need the best angle for getting the tumor out. You can see the area of bone erosion it has caused. The eroded bone essentially caused the fracture. Even if he didn't fall, this was a time bomb waiting to go off – or rather break."

Foreman was amazed how focused Mathis was even though she was talking away. She was the perfect Doctor for a teaching hospital.

Felt, the more involved resident, asked, "Can we even get in without cutting through the scarred area?"

Mathis grimaced, "Nope. This is a mess."

She requested a scalpel. "Here we go."

Foreman watched as she started about 3 inches above his patella (or kneecap) and cut for about 6 inches.

When Foreman heard her ask the nurse to grab another oncologist to help evaluate the tumor he suggested, "Don't get Wilson. He can't be objective. Get someone else."

The nurse nodded and left.

Mathis continued, "Dr. Felt, suction this blood off. Hang a unit, blood is still spilling."

Even though Mathis was an oncologist as well as an orthopedic surgeon, Foreman was glad she was calling someone else in as well. He suspected that Mathis wanted to move on to help her residents with the artery damage as soon as the tumor was away from the artery.

Foreman knew he had a tendency to be a control freak. Sometimes he had trouble calling others in. He knew sometimes you had to, but he still hesitated to bring others in on his own cases.

House solved that problem by employing a team of competent people and then getting oncology consults from Wilson.

Foreman was amazed at how quickly Mathis was cutting and moving the tumor out of the way. He was very impressed with Mathis.

Foreman felt a pulse and snapped out of his thoughts. "I've got a pulse down here!" Foreman didn't know how long they had been operating.

Felt chimed in, "The blood spill is slowing."

"Almost got the tumor away from the artery," Mathis replied. "Hang more blood, I'm not happy with his blood pressure."

Blood was now flowing where it should be and wasn't spilling out. The puncture caused by the bone was actually quite small now that blood was no longer spilling from it. It was amazing such a small hole could result in this much blood loss.

Mathis had gotten the tumor away from the vessel to stop him from bleeding out, but Foreman saw that there was still a good bit of tumor to remove.

Foreman now found his eye drawn to the messy fracture in front of them. He felt relief that the immediate crisis and bleeding was under control, but it felt artificial in light of what was right in front of him.

"That's one crisis under control, but we need to get the rest of this tumor out and then deal with the fracture." Mathis seemed to read Foreman's mind.

"What about amputation?" Felt asked.

Foreman cringed at the word.

"Amputation wouldn't stop the spread of cancer because we know that this tumor is a metastasis from the prostate." Mathis started. They could already tell from testing that the cancer had started in the prostate.

"House would freak out anyway." Foreman had heard enough of the lecture House delivered to the med students that he had a pretty good understanding of the story behind House's infarction. He had grilled Wilson for the rest of the story later. House wouldn't want his leg amputated.

"Let's get the rest of this tumor."


	11. Chapter 11

I still don't own House and I'm still not a doctor. Enjoy the chapter!

Once the tumor was removed, the doctors could see how much damage was caused by bone erosion from the tumor's growth. The fracture was not going to be fun, either.

"Plates and pins?" Felt asked Mathis.

Mathis replied, "I want to do radiation on this area and he's going to need a lot more imaging studies. I don't want to see plates and pins blocking our view every time we need to test him."

Foreman jumped in, "What if we used a titanium alloy? He'd still be MRI safe."

"The titanium creates what we call "black hole artifact" on MRI images. The titanium itself plus several millimeters of the surrounding area appear as empty space."

Foreman had never spent much time in orthopedics. This suddenly reminded him of the patient and his dominatrix that they had a while back. The whole team had totally missed an infection because it was blocked by a metal plate in the guy's jaw.

Mathis continued, "I would prefer hardware in this case, but we need to avoid it. Although there is bone erosion, there is not so much that he would HAVE to have a metal implant in the area.

"We're fortunate that there isn't too much swelling right now to operate. Look at all the swelling around his hip. I'm glad we didn't have any emergency bleeding there. Let's get this reduced and pieced together. Then we'll close and brace it for now. I'm not going to cast him because we're going to need access and there is no telling what we're going to need to do in the hip area."

By the time the bones were set, all the doctors were sweaty and tired. The incision had to be widened for the bone reduction and House now had a whole mess of stitches across the scarred area of his thigh extending into the healthy skin as well.

Once the thigh was braced House had more x-rays and another MRI to thoroughly assess damage to the hip and pelvic girdle.

It would have been procedure to keep House in recovery until he was fully awake, but with all of his past health problems they knew he would freak out if he woke in recovery or the ICU. He would expend his energy ranting.

They decided to go ahead and get him moved to a room and set up so that they could get the movement over with while he was still sedated.

*SHIFT SCENE*

Casey was dozing and Claudia was getting bored. The nurses had been in and out to monitor Casey, but Dr. Wilson hadn't been back and she hadn't heard much in the way of juicy gossip – unless you counted new posters in the ladies restroom.

The doors to the room opened and Claudia could see a whole herd of doctors bringing in a patient.

Casey jerked awake and began to watch with rapt attention. "Look at all those doctors – must be a sick one!" Fortunately, he wasn't loud enough for the doctors to hear – Claudia would have been totally embarrassed.

Claudia was always somewhat mortified by Casey's sense of entertainment, but she couldn't help but watch as well.

They noticed Doctor Wilson was one of the doctors. Since they were in the oncology ward it would be pretty safe to assume that this was a cancer patient.

Normally patients were moved around like this by orderlies, nurses, and nurse's aids, so it did seem odd that the doctors actually seemed to be doing all the lifting, equipment hook-up, etc.

Once the patient was actually in the bed and things were hooked up, all but two of the doctors left the room.

Dr. Wilson and a middle aged female doctor were the only two remaining.

The patient had a large brace on his right leg and a wedge shaped pillow between his legs with elastic bandages wrapped around his legs holding it in place. There were also bandages around the patient's hips.

A nurse rolled in a small machine that looked like an ice chest. Dr. Wilson and the nurse supported the patient while the other doctor wrapped a wide blue band around the patient's hips. The largest part of the band was situated around the man's right hip, lower back, and waist.

The nurse left the room while Dr. Wilson and the woman connected the band to a couple of hoses that ran into the machine.

The nurse came back with a large bag of ice and some water, which she dumped into the machine.

They turned the machine on and it made a low whooshing sound. "That should get the swelling down. Shirley, make sure you come in and check that this isn't leaking. We don't want any water getting on his leg."

The nurse responded, "Yes, Dr. Wilson. Are you or Dr. Mathis the physician of record?"

"I am." The female doctor jumped in quickly. Dr. Wilson looked like he wanted to say something, but he just glared.

Claudia now knew that the woman's name was Dr. Mathis. She exchanged looks with Casey and they both filed that away for information.

Shirley, the nurse, left.

Dr. Wilson and Dr. Mathis arranged pillows on either side of the patient's hips and put up the bed's rails.

Dr. Mathis checked the oxygen canula in the patient's nose, gave Dr. Wilson a nod, and left the room.

The hospital room had a single bathroom intended for both patients.

Dr. Wilson gave Casey and Claudia a tight smile as he walked into the restroom.

They heard him turn the sink on.

He walked out with a wet washcloth and began to wipe the patient's face down. The patient didn't react.

Claudia and Casey exchanged looks.

Casey mumbled, "What is he doing?"

Claudia answered, "Washing his face."

Dr. Wilson was so focused on the patient that he didn't notice them.

"Duh!" Casey replied, "Doctors don't usually do that kind of thing."

Wilson was now wiping the patient's armpits and whispering something to him. Claudia found this just a bit creepy and was wondering if Dr. Wilson was a good choice as her brother's doctor. He had a good reputation and came highly recommended, but this was weird.

After straightening out the patient's gown Dr. Wilson seemed to compose himself and then walked over to pick up Casey's chart.

"How's it going?" Wilson focused on Casey.

Casey bluntly answered, "Right out my rear."

"Oh, well. We'll do some imaging tomorrow to see if the digestive tract is clear and then we'll have you drink a different solution to do a final cleansing. If there is any food or wastes remaining in your system, it increases your chances of infection. Do you have any questions?"

"Nope. Se ya later." Casey dismissed Dr. Wilson.

Claudia got the impression that Dr. Wilson wasn't quite sure how to react, "Okay then."

"Thank you," Claudia threw in a smile for good measure.

Dr. Wilson stopped at the other bed one more time and left the room.

"Why do you always suck up to doctors?" Casey asked with a scowl.

"I'm just being polite. You want the doctors to like you and not avoid you! It is good for your health and well being." Claudia sarcastically replied.

"Whatever – he has a pocket protector. Did you see it – lined with plastic and everything."

Casey gestured to the other patient, "I wonder why that dude is in here. It looks like he has orthopedic issues. This is the cancer wing. I hope that Wilson guy isn't that confused."

"Maybe he has cancer as well – there are all kinds of cancer. Don't make assumptions about people." Claudia answered.

"His chart is hanging on the foot of the bed. Why don't you grab it and we can take a look?"

"NO! Quite frankly, it is none of our business what is wrong with him! That would be invasion of privacy."

"What if he has some sort of mutant contagious disease? I deserve to know!" Casey attempted to look worried and legitimately concerned.

"He would be in one of those isolation rooms and not in a room with other people, you idiot. You just want an excuse to be nosey."

Casey sighed. Claudia knew him way too well.

Claudia jokingly asked, "So, do you think he's a sick enough roommate to keep you suitably entertained?"

"You kidding? All those doctors just to move him into the room – he just better wake up. With the amount of traffic in and out of here, he's going to be all kinds of fun!"


	12. Hands

I've got a nice long chapter here for you today.

Everything seemed to happen in a flurry of activity after the surgery. During the surgery Taub, Chase, Cuddy, and Wilson had evaluated all of the blood work and the MRI from that morning and had a decent idea of what was going on. The other oncologist from the surgery had biopsied the tumor from House's femur and now had those results back to them.

All this progress just goes to show how much can be accomplished when the dean of medicine, two department heads, and five other doctors obsessed over a single patient.

It didn't matter how late at night it was, everyone was intensely focused even if their body language told of exhaustion.

Based on MRI results and the blood tests, everyone was in agreement that House was definitely looking at prostate cancer.

Foreman knew that early prostate cancer showed almost no symptoms, so there was really no telling how long this had been festering.

The quantity of calcium in House's blood and the cancerous tumor they had just removed from his femur almost guaranteed that the growth on his pelvic girdle was a secondary malignancy as well.

It probably caused the pain that prompted House to order the MRI.

Wilson was currently ranting about cancer. He seemed to have some irrational idea that he was going to start House on cancer treatments TONIGHT!

Foreman looked at the boney mess on the images of House's hip area and realized that they would have to deal with this before they could even think about doing much else.

Foreman's analytical pondering was interrupted by Wilson and Mathis.

Apparently Wilson wanted House in surgery right this minute to fix the bones – he wanted to do it while House was still out. House probably wasn't far from waking.

"I am not comfortable surgically repairing this until the swelling has gone down some. We need to keep ice wraps on him and keep his lower body still until we can operate." Dr. Mathis seemed quite confident in her statement.

Just glancing at all the swelling on House's body during the surgery, Foreman agreed with her.

"When the swelling is down, we will operate to remove the tumor from his pelvic girdle and set the bones. I'm going to order a special brace that is adjustable for swelling after the surgery." Mathis's plan made sense.

Wilson replied, "If we aren't casting, then swelling shouldn't be as much of an issue. I thought you said you would be able to adjust the brace to accommodate swelling."

"When I said it was adjustable for swelling I meant POST-OP swelling! With this much pre-op swelling I'm not going to be able to maneuver inside his body and have a good view of what I'm doing. That will just result in even larger incisions. The swelling has to go down first!"

"Insert a scope during the surgery and you can view with the camera instead of cutting as much" Wilson threw out.

He seemed to think that Mathis had never performed surgery before.

"That would be a nightmare with this much swelling. It would be too risky" Mathis hissed at Wilson.

Foreman saw this getting out of hand, "Wait until he wakes up and let him decide."

Mathis decided to back out of this match and let things play out before pleading her case.

Wilson "He doesn't exactly have a lot of options."

Foreman responded, "If he knows what's going on before he wakes up after surgery he might be calmer and less pissed!"

"Do you have any idea what kind of pain he'll be in?" Wilson was growing more emphatic by the moment.

Foreman responded, "House is tough. He'd rather know and suffer than be left in the dark."

"I still think we should handle the bones right now so that we can get cancer treatments started."

Cuddy jumped in – she knew Wilson was reacting as House's best friend and as an oncologist instead of assessing the situation as a whole. "Wilson, I know you are in such a hurry to get this done so that you can start cancer treatments. Early treatment is important, but a little time to get the swelling down is not going to make a difference with the stage he is at."

"You don't know that" Wilson declared.

"What I do know is that he is going to have to live with the outcome of this orthopedic surgery for the rest of his life and we need to wait a bit and do this surgery right." Cuddy certainly knew how to plead her case.

"You say that as if you can assume he'll get past the cancer. That isn't automatic. Some people would select palliative treatment at this point."

Foreman was shocked at Wilson's apparent pessimism. Foreman knew things weren't good, but for Wilson to be so openly negative was a surprise.

Foreman jumped in, "House isn't some people!"

Foreman realized that Cuddy had stepped in again. "House is a fighter. When he survives the cancer and ends up trapped in a wheelchair with no mobility because you hurried his surgery in an effort to get cancer treatments started sooner, he won't be happy. House wouldn't want to live like that. This is House's body, not yours. If we follow Mathis's plan, you will have to wait to start treating the cancer, but he'll be able to walk when this is all over."

Foreman realized that Cuddy certainly could sum things up pretty well.

When they received a page that House was waking, it seemed the decision was made for them.

*SCENE CHANGE*

Casey was asleep and Claudia was just returning from the vending machine when the other patient moved his head a bit. She hated to admit, but she really did want to read his chart

Claudia had just sat down when she heard a low moan and some whimpering from the patient across the room. Claudia thought for sure that a nurse would notice, but there weren't as many nurses on the floor late at night in any hospital.

He was starting to shift around and move his arms. She decided that he might be trying to reach his call button.

Claudia got up and walked across the room. As soon as she looked at the patient she realized it was Dr. House! This was the same man she had seen yelling in the lobby and then drooping in the elevator. He had looked bad then, but he looked horrible now.

She reached towards his call button, but he opened his eyes at just that moment. She was trapped in his beautiful, blue eyes.

They were filled with pain and looked panicked, but nonetheless, they were stunning.

His flailing hand grabbed hers. This really took her by surprise and she wasn't quite sure how to react.

She figured he was scared and in pain so she sat in the chair next to his bed and held his hand.

She was so busy staring at his eyes that she forgot her original plan to press his call button. She reached forward and pressed the call button with her other hand. He was tightly gripping her hand like some kind of anchor.

A nurse came in and approached his bed, "What is it?"

He didn't immediately reply so she responded, "He just woke up and was moaning. I think he's in pain."

"I agree. His heart-rate is up."

The nurse bent over, "Dr. House, do you know where you are?"

"Yaaahhhh. Dammit! Uuugghhh." House's breath was coming in harsh gulps.

"Was that a yes? Where are you?" The nurse persisted.

"What day is it?"

Claudia was getting frustrated. She knew the nurse needed to do her job, so she tried to be polite. "I think he's distracted by the pain."

The nurse turned to Claudia, "I'm going to page his doctor. Do you mind?"

The nurse vaguely gestured toward Claudia's hand. She realized the nurse was asking if she minded holding his hand. He didn't seem to be letting go anyway, so she responded, "No problem."

Over the course of Casey's illness she certainly spent enough time around him when he was ill. Sick people didn't bother her. Casey was never much of a hand holder.

Of course, based on what she saw this morning, she wouldn't have pegged Dr. House as a hand holder, either.

It didn't take long for Dr. Wilson and Dr. Mathis to enter the room and more doctors to appear in the hallway.

Dr. Mathis hustled to House's bedside totally ignoring Claudia.

She checked his stats and turned to her residents, "Up his pain meds. Stick to non-narcotic."

Her resident responded, "He's almost at the safe limit."

"Then raise him to the safe limit!" Dr. Mathis was definitely a woman you don't want to mess with.

As the resident pushed the meds, Mathis and Wilson watched House's vitals.

His body relaxed slightly, but he was obviously still miserable.

Mathis spoke calmly, "Dr. House, be still. We are trying to keep your lower body as immobile as possible because we haven't repaired the damage to your hip and pelvis."

House took a deep breath and responded through gritted teeth, "I kind of gathered that something wasn't right judging by the pain! You haven't put me on narcotics have you?"

Mathis answered, "No, do you want to consider narcotics?" Wilson sent her the best glare he could muster.

"NO. I worked too hard to get off the vicodin. I can't go through that again. I'd rather suffer the pain." House ground out through harsh breathing.

Wilson jumped in, "There is quite a bit of damage to your hip and your bad leg."

"Really? I never would have guessed." House's sarcasm was definitely intact. "Let's get past the obvious and you tell me EXACTLY what is going on." House ground out.

Mathis calmly informed him, "There is a large growth positioned in your right pelvic girdle. It has begun to weaken the bones around it. Whenever you fell in the hall, the impact caused the tumor to shift and the weakened pelvic bone broke in several places. Your hip also broke. Whenever you fell there was a lot of impact onto your right thigh. Due to the lack of muscle protecting the area, your femur broke on impact. You went through a bleeding crisis, so we already removed a significant tumor from your femur and reduced the fracture. Fortunately there are no free-floating particles in the hip area. We currently have you stabilized with an abduction pillow between your legs to hold your hips in place temporarily and a brace on your right leg to protect and support the area we have already operated on. There are also bandages around your hip. We need to tell you our orthopedic treatment plan and get your approval to proceed with surgery as soon as the swelling goes down."

Wilson butted in, "…or sooner."

Unfortunately Wilson saw that House was zoned in on Mathis as a source for answers.

Deep down, Wilson knew he should probably give up on rushing the surgery and just be patient and wait for the swelling to go down. The thing about being an oncologist right now was that he knew just how dangerous the cancer was. It scared the living daylights out of him to know that these cancerous masses were in his best friend's body.

"What kind of surgery?" House asked. The pain was so bad that he continued to squeeze Claudia's hand without noticing the fact that he was seeking comfort from a total stranger.

"Dr. House, the main thing I'm concerned about is that we get as much of the tumor as possible out so that we can repair the pelvis and get you more comfortable. Your hip, at the head of the femur, is also broken so we will be repairing that all in one whack"

Wilson broke in, "Ideally we'd consider leaving the tumor so that we can watch it for a response to the cancer treatments, but Mathis and I ..."

Without thought, House darted up to a sitting position, "Cancer?" Before anyone had a chance to respond House let out a low whine from the abrupt movement and Wilson and Mathis attempted to ease him back against the bed while keeping his shifting body as still as possible. House squeezed Claudia's hand pretty hard at this point, but she didn't let go.

Despite the panting and grunts coming from House, he responded, "I thought we were just talking about a fracture and some benign growths or something."

Wilson carefully phrased, "Well, we didn't actually say that…"

Before Wilson could finish his sentence House broke in, "Get talking and lay the facts on the table before I strangle you!"

With the squeeze he just gave Claudia's hand, she had no doubt he was capable of strangling someone right now.

Wilson attempted to placate him, "Let's just worry about the bones and getting you comfortable and then…"

Through gritted teeth House demanded, "I want to know what is going on in MY body RIGHT NOW."

Despite the pain, House was remarkably focused. House had plenty of practice dealing with pain and continuing to do his job and other daily activities.

Judging from House's demeanor and knowing his reputation, Mathis knew that Dr. House was the kind of guy that wanted the cold hard truth without the warm, fuzzy feelings.

Dr. Wilson seemed to be more concerned with managing the situation and making decisions FOR House.

As House's heart rate started to climb Mathis quickly realized that she needed to take over the situation.

"You have stage IV prostate cancer that has spread and metastasized to the bones of your pelvis/hip area. You had a large metastatic tumor on your right femur that has been removed. Although the prostate cancer and the metastasis to your bones are the primary threats to your life, we need to get the bones stable before we can begin treating the cancer."

Despite the horrible news, ironically House's heart rate and breathing seemed to calm down. Not knowing was scarier than knowing something horrible.

Mathis continued, "We don't know how many cancerous areas we may be dealing with, but we do know the prostate is the original source of cancer and that you are definitely looking at some scary stuff."

Wilson seemed to be holding his breath and staring at Dr. Mathis with bugged out eyes and fear.

Wilson obviously intended to keep the cancer diagnosis from House for as long as possible – if only his tongue hadn't slipped out the word "cancer." Wilson was terrified that House might be willing to throw in the towel once he knew the treatments, surgeries, and extended recovery period he was looking at.

With the severity of the cancer and the treatments he would be going through, it would be a minor miracle if the orthopedic issues could even heal in a timely manner through the chaos his body would be put through.

After hearing all of this, House would know his odds for survival. House was not exactly known as Dr. Optimism.

Much to Wilson's surprise, House took a deep breath and gave a short half-nod.

"Ordinarily I would repair this surgically with several plates, pins, and screws. Unfortunately, Dr. Wilson and I are both concerned with the difficulties the internal fixation could cause for monitoring and treating the cancer. The plates will definitely block our radiological view of the areas currently plagued with cancer. I will want to start radiation on the area almost immediately and the plates will also complicate that. Medical cementing is out for the same reasons."

"Instead of listing all of the procedure that won't work, let's hear something that will!" House grunted in pain trying to get comfortable without moving – as if that was possible.

"My plan is to open you up and remove as much of the tumor as possible. By removing the tumor, I'll have enough space to maneuver the pieces of bone back into proper placement. In order to hold everything together, I'm going to place you in a modified hip spica brace. It will keep you immobilized and hold all the pieces of bone firmly in place. I already got your measurements while you were out and I have put in a rush order. It is made from a hard plastic substance, but is designed so that you will be able to wear it through testing. I double-checked and the hip spread will even allow for MRI imaging while wearing it! It really is an orthopedic marvel."

House was starting to get irritated. "Geez, Mathis, don't sound so excited about the damn brace!"

"I've never had cause to use a customized brace of this kind! Normally I would be able to use internal hardware to patch you up. The avoidance of hardware creates all kinds of challenges. I guess my excitement is a bit insensitive"

Wilson threw in, "Don't worry about it. You're talking to the king of insensitivity."

Mathis actually seemed thrilled with the whole situation. Her love of challenges was much like House's own. Nothing like an exceptionally rare, serious illness to get him excited. He would probably be fascinated if this wasn't his own body involved and the pain of multiple broken bones wasn't surging through his body.

House grumbled, "Fine, let's hear the features. I might as well know what I'm going to wake up from the surgery trapped in!"

"It will start below your nipple line..."

"You've got to be kidding me. We're treating my pelvis, not my freakin' ribs."

"We have to keep you stable or you won't heal safely and correctly."

House knew these things as a doctor, but certainly didn't wish to acknowledge the facts in his current predicament. House always liked protesting anyway.

After House sighed, Mathis continued, "Anyway, it will start below your nipple line, immobilize your lower back, cradle your hips to hold the entire pelvic girdle firmly in place, and immobilize your thighs at a slight angle to your spine. The brace will keep your right knee slightly bent and the hard shell will extend past the ankle and around your foot on the right side since we also need to stabilize the break in your femur. There is velcro allowing us to open the right leg portion of the brace since the site of your infarction will require close monitoring. Your body as a whole will have to be monitored closely for clots. You will be able to bend your left knee and have free movement of the lower left leg."

"Well, yipee!"

"That feature will at least keep you more comfortable. There is additional velcro so that we can open portions of the brace to monitor and clean your incisions and minimize skin breakdown.

"As you know, immobilization of this kind will put you at risk for other medical problems, so I will have physical and respiratory therapists coming in daily to monitor and work with you. The physical therapist will exercise your upper body and left leg while guiding you through muscle engagement exercises for your abs and other muscle groups. It will be very important to prevent muscle atrophy as much as possible.

"We'll use gauze and cast padding to make you as comfortable as possible and maintain a snug and supportive fit. You will need to be shifted and turned regularly to prevent bed sores and skin breakdown. I will also be consulting with a dermatologist. Once you start chemo, it will be very important to make sure that we keep the risk of skin infections as low as possible. We will need to aggressively treat the malignancies in your bones. It is possible that we may find more when we open you up and when we continue testing after this next surgery. We will start radiation on these areas as soon as possible. The logistics of managing the orthopedic injuries if you develop radiation burns may be a nightmare, but we'll just have to cross that bridge if we get there. We will have to be very careful with you."

Wilson was watching House because he was expecting House to freak out or throw a tantrum of protestations at any moment. Mathis, Wilson, and the other doctors had decided this orthopedic treatment path was the most viable, but Wilson was still surprised that House didn't want to throw in his two cents.

Wilson also knew that House liked to take risks. After testing, viewing the current breaks, and probing the area Wilson cringed at how fragile House's body was right now. It was a minor miracle that House hadn't broken bones sooner doing something as mundane as sitting down too hard. Wilson suspected it was because House unconsciously takes care with any movements involving his right leg and that incorporates the hip and pelvic area just by proxy.

There was no way House could have protected himself against this fall. (Unless you consider staying out of the halls, never standing up, or leashing all small children in a 100 foot radius around House viable options) Of course, now, they would be keeping House away from all of these things in addition to anything that could possibly cause an infection or jar his body in any way. Heck, they would be rolling him over bumps in and out of the elevator with caution to avoid jarring him. Even though PPTH was a teaching hospital, Wilson would personally be making sure that inexperienced orderlies or nurses never lifted, transferred, or turned House.

Wilson knew that House would freak out when people have to start lifting him since he would be virtually unable to move himself after this surgery, and now for that matter.

House had never been one to do well with feelings of helplessness. After the infarction House had issues with people just seeing him using a wheelchair. Yet, he could use a wheelchair for a week just to win a stupid bet over parking spaces. Sometimes House's rationale was just plain ridiculous. Wilson supposed that must be because people knew House didn't technically "need" the wheelchair. House didn't want anyone to see him "dependent" on a wheelchair.

Knowing House and his tendency to take risks, he might actually believe that minimally stabilizing the bones would be an acceptable risk to take. He might be satisfied with an elastic support and ACE bandages. (…and the first time he reflexively sat up to vomit after a chemo session he would jar Mathis's hard work and any healing he had done apart and find himself with bone fragments and more surgery)

This brace would protect him from situations like that, promote a more precise fusion of the bones, and hopefully speed up their knitting back together.

All of these thoughts flew through Wilson's head in a matter of seconds.

He realized Mathis was still talking, "Of course, there is a totally open area to give us access for managing your bowel and bladder functions."

Claudia felt intensely uncomfortable holding a perfect stranger's hand through this kind of personal information. He certainly was perfect, though. She couldn't quit staring at his eyes as he was processing all these things. She could see in his eyes how intelligent he was and how fast his brain was processing things.

Wilson cringed awaiting House's response to the bomb Mathis just dropped..

"What do you mean US managing MY bowel and bladder functions?"

Wilson was watching House's heart rate start to climb. "House, calm down. The cancer is already wreaking havoc on your body, but your fall and orthopedic issues will just complicate everything. We'll get through this."

"What do you mean WE?"

House tightened his hold on her hand at this point. He still didn't seem to register the fact that he was holding her hand.

As an oncologist, Wilson wasn't well-versed on exactly what was involved in managing this severe of an orthopedic injury. Of course, all of this was an "add-on" to House's previous infarction and the cancer they found. Wilson also knew that House's chronic leg pain was a factor in all of Mathis's decisions – the nerve pain would be particularly challenging.

With the level of immobility House would be facing, things would be a nightmare before you even considered the cancer. Of course, if it wasn't for the cancer, Mathis could just patch all the orthopedic damage up with some hardware and House wouldn't be out of commission for as long. Of course, that was irrelevant since the cancer was definitely present.

Wilson remembered all the problems House's independent nature caused with the infarction recovery. As a compensation mechanism House had become even more independent to avoid people noticing his leg handicap. Now, House was looking at problems far more debilitating than the infarction. Wilson would just have to deal with House's current freaking-out and take this one step at a time from. Wilson would be going one step at time anyway. It sounded like House wouldn't be stepping anywhere for quite a while.

Of course, House's stubborn nature could also work in his favor regarding this cancer.

Mathis was still rattling off the features involved in this orthopedic device she had ordered, "They weren't going to be able to get it assembled for you in a timely manner until I explained that the brace was for THE Dr. House."

Wilson definitely agreed with House that Mathis's fascination with the brace was pretty morbid.

She was a superb orthopedic surgeon, though.

Wilson abruptly realized House was actually laughing.

"Whoo-hoo lucky me! My status in the medical community lands me all sorts of perks. Two department heads detailing a surgery and stupid brace and look at the Dean of Medicine lurking in the hall eavesdropping! Oh check it out, I think the head of nursing is peering in as well. Chase, Foreman, and Taub are all getting updates - aren't they? Yet I can't get a private room!"

"House, you know that with the renovations there are no private rooms available right now..." Wilson stopped talking as he realized that House's irrational laughter had now turned into choked sobs. The laughter must have jarred House's broken bones. Smooth.

Wilson knew that a broken pelvis, hip, and femur would be quite painful, but House must be going through hell with his always painful thigh complicating matters.

Wilson definitely was not looking forward to the road they were headed down.

Mathis calmly stated, "We're going to keep the ice pump going so that we can get the swelling down enough to do the surgery."

She made eye contact with Wilson, "We're going to go ahead and give you a light sedative to help you relax until the swelling is down enough to start the pre-op. Is that okay?"

Wilson knew that was a dangerous question to ask House.

Much to Wilson's surprise, House gave a tight nod and tried to get himself under control.

Claudia gave his hand a light squeeze and he turned her way and mumbled, "Thanks."

Claudia gave him a slight nod and moved to the other side of the room to sit next to Casey.

Wilson left to get the sedative. Damn that stupid kid running through the hall - it was a good thing that Wilson didn't know where the little brat had gotten off to.

Thanks for reading! If you would like to review it would make me very happy


	13. Strangers

Thank you so much for all of your reviews, favorites, and alerts. I appreciate it. There is a bit more Claudia and House interaction here. (For the sake of my story, Wilson and Sam are still together)

As soon as House was sedated, Wilson went to his office to gather his things. He was planning to head home for a shower and some sleep. Chase was going to sit with House for a while so that Foreman could get cleaned up and catch a few hours of sleep and then Foreman was going to sit with him.

Wilson was mentally, physically, and emotionally drained after everything that had happened that afternoon and evening. House was undoubtedly the most important person in his life – definitely the longest friendship or relationship of any kind that Wilson had maintained. Sam was important now, but House and Wilson's history was huge.

Wilson knew they were looking at a nightmare of treatments and a hellish recovery for House…if he recovered. The whole concept of House having cancer scared the living daylights out of him.

As soon as they had results, Wilson had faxed them to one oncologist at Princeton General, two from the Mayo Clinic, one from Hopkins, and one from Trenton. Most of them were people he knew from conferences and people he had worked with in the past. The heading he used was EMERGENCY CONSULT – BEST FRIEND HAS CANCER.

Of the five consult requests, he had received replies to three of them and talked to a fourth doctor on the phone who was a fairly close friend. Three of the four, including the one he talked on the phone with for about an hour, recommended palliative treatment to keep House comfortable and prolong his quality of life. They thought trying to get him in remission would be giving him false hope, would shorten his time left, and cause unnecessary suffering. The side effects would be horrible.

He didn't know if he could cause his best friend that kind of suffering if it was all in vain, but he wanted House to live. It may be selfish, but Wilson wasn't sure he cared about his motives. He told himself that he could justify his selfish desires by considering all of the hundreds of people House could save if he lived.

The people Wilson requested consults from were some of the doctors he respected and often sought the opinions of – and usually took their advice.

He knew whose advice he really wanted – both medically and personally. He wanted to talk to his best friend from med school. Matt was one of the finest oncologists in the profession. His status in oncology was about like House's status in diagnostics and infectious disease.

He had two problems:

It was midnight

Their friendship had suffered a major falling out and he hadn't even spoken to Matt in two years

Wilson didn't think he would be able to sleep. He figured the worse that could happen would be Matt hanging up on him – or cussing him out. He sat down at his desk and started sending files to Matt. Once he got everything sent, he took a deep breath and dialed his number.

Fortunately, Matt answered his phone and was actually happy to hear from Wilson. He looked at everything Wilson had sent him and they talked through all of the results as well as the potential ramifications of the results they were still waiting on.

After giving Matt all the facts, Wilson held his breath for a verdict.

"Based on everything you've told me so far, I would recommend palliative treatment for most people. Explain his options, but it doesn't look great. Tell me about his personality and experiences."

Oh dear. Wilson had no idea what Matt was looking for here, so Wilson launched into everything he could think of about House. He went through the infarction experience, gunshot wounds, deep brain stimulation…

When Wilson was finished, Matt replied, "He sounds like one tough son-of-a-gun. If he's game, it sounds like he has the willpower. You said he was a doctor, do I know him?"

Great – for all Wilson knew House might have met Matt at some point and made an enemy.

Here goes, "It is possible. His name is Greg House."

"THE Doctor House? As in Gregory House, genius diagnostician? I've never met him, but I've certainly heard of him and read a bunch of his stuff. I even have some of the audiotapes from when he used to lecture and speak at conferences."

Wilson didn't even know there were audiotapes available. It sounded like he was dealing with a regular "Fan Girl."

"This sounds as selfish as all get out, but I'd love to meet him. If nothing else, he needs to do treatment for the sake of the medical community. Losing his medical mind would be a real tragedy." Matt seemed pretty emphatic at this point.

"Losing him as a person would be a greater tragedy."

"Of course" Matt sounded a bit more somber now.

"Well, thanks Matt. I appreciate your advice and the time you've given me so late at night."

"Listen, James, keep in touch. If you need anything I would be happy to fly out some time. Goodnight."

That went surprisingly well. Wilson was discouraged by Matt's original assessment and general recommendation of palliative treatment, but things ended on a high note.

He saw that it was almost two am, so he headed home to shower and get some sleep.

SCENE CHANGE

House woke up very early the next morning in a lot of pain, but it wasn't as bad as when he first woke up yesterday. They must have left him maxed out on pain meds. Their effect was pretty pathetic, but he figured it was better than nothing. He thought about asking if there was anything else, but decided to suck it up and try to distract himself. He still didn't want to resort to narcotics. The hallucinations were way too scary.

Foreman was sitting in the chair next to the bed reading a medical journal.

House's voice was weak, but he was mentally clear. "Foreman, how's our patient?"

Foreman knew exactly what House meant, but couldn't believe he was asking at a time like this.

Well, knowing House, he didn't have trouble believing it at all.

Foreman's reply was somewhat sarcastic, "Well, he lost a substantial amount of blood yesterday evening and ended up having major surgery on bones and arteries. We had to transfuse him with several units of blood just to keep him alive. Currently, we're icing him because he's going to need another major surgery soon. We're not sure he's strong enough right now to handle another dose of anesthesia and everything the surgery will entail. The blood loss has made him very weak. Unfortunately, his heart rate is rising because he's busy worrying about other things."

House interrupted, "HIS heart rate is rising because his employee won't answer a simple question!"

"Relax, you need to stay calm and let yourself recover as much as possible before your next surgery."

House insisted, "I seem to have heard somewhere that the patient you're talking about is pretty stubborn. I need to know how OUR patient is doing!"

"House…"

Sometimes honesty is the best policy – even if it is embarrassing at times

House interrupted in a quiet voice, "I need something to distract me from the pain. Go get the file."

With one last glare, Foreman reluctantly got up. "I'll grab the file and see if the others have any more results. I'll look in on the patient."

Once House was a little more awake and Foreman was gone, House started to evaluate his body and realized how uncomfortable he really was. His right leg hurt like bloody murder and he had what felt like shock waves moving through his hip and into his thigh. He decided that maybe if he shifted a little bit that he would feel better. He grabbed the bedrail and tried to move his hip over a bit. The searing pain made him gasp and he actually thought he might pass out for a minute. He decided that was a bad plan and let go of the rail. He noticed that he had managed to move himself less than an inch. Great

Maybe if he was still the pain would stay at a moderately unbearable level. Although he would never admit it, the icy water circulating around his hip felt really good.

The catheter was making his penis hurt and the area was really itchy. Now that he saw what ignoring his pain and the changes in his body for so long got him, he decided he should check this out. He considered raising the bed a bit and leaning forward to take look, but he quickly realized that was probably a very bad plan. His one inch shift a few minutes ago about killed him.

His pride told him not to, but his rational thinking forced him to go ahead and hit the call button for a nurse.

Before the nurse had time to ask how he was feeling (dumb question) he jumped in, "My penis, testicles, and the surrounding areas are itching and burning."

"I'll take a look." The nurse calmly pulled House's gown up and examined the area.

With the sudden draft, House realized he wasn't wearing any boxers or even those thin paper underwear they sometimes give people after catheterization. Delightful

"Your catheter looks fine, but there is a rash and a good deal of irritation down here. The area should really be wiped down with an antiseptic and then we can apply a cream, but the abduction pillow between your legs holding your hips still is in the way. I better notify your doctor so that we can get some assistance accessing the area."

House had really hoped to deal with this little issue on the down low and keep it between him and the nurse, but it appeared that wouldn't be possible.

Just then, Foreman entered. Spectacular

The nurse spotted him, "Oh, Dr. Foreman. I was just about to page a doctor. Dr. House has a good deal of irritation in the testicular region and around his penis. It needs to be cleansed, but I cannot get good access to it due to the abduction pillow stabilizing his hips."

House wondered if the nurse could speak any louder if she tried.

Foreman approached, "Let me take a look."

This was just lovely – his employee was now inspecting his thoroughly irritated "man parts."

House tried to think of a crude joke, but he really didn't have it in him.

"I agree that it needs antiseptic cleansing and some topical cream, but I really don't want to jar his hips any because that would be quite painful. We won't be able to use a towel or cloth on the area, but we can access the area with some cotton swabs."

The nurse seemed to agree, "Yes doctor, I'll get the supplies."

At least Foreman was cool and impersonal about the situation.

"I brought the file." Foreman handed House the file and began to brief him on the patient.

House wasn't about to tell Foreman that he couldn't read the file without his glasses, so he went ahead and opened. He figured he'd just ask Foreman his questions.

The nurse returned with the supplies and Foreman began to assist her in treating House's privates.

House felt like crawling under the bed and dieing. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be crawling anywhere.

Foreman started a differential on the patient with House as he worked and they had some new ideas by the time the antiseptic wash was complete and the cream had been applied.

As Foreman removed his gloves and made a note in House's chart, he told him, "I'll go brief the rest of the team. See you later."

Just as Foreman was about to leave the room, House called out, "Wait!"

Foreman turned back, "Do you need something?"

"You said the patient used heroin?"

"Yes"

"Were they in California?"

"Yes"

"They probably used black tar heroin."

Foreman was wondering where House was going with this and if he was really with it.

"And?"

"Are you dense? Check for infected injection sites."

"Already did. There is one. Is this related?"

"You idiot! Wound botulism!"

"There are only a few cases of that a year in the US. Seriously, a heroin injection site?"

"NO, I'm kidding!" House added sarcastically.

Foreman just raised an eyebrow.

"Have you not been reading any journals lately? Wound botulism is becoming more common after the use of black tar heroin. Particularly in California"

"So, now what?"

"Confirm it. Surgically treat the injection site. Start him on meds. Treatment takes a long time, but he might end up okay. Get on it!"

"Okay."

Foreman shook his head. House always came up with the strangest things. They considered food born botulism, but ruled it out based on a home search. That probably wasn't the wisest way to rule something out, but wound botulism from an injection site? Foreman vaguely wondered how many medical journals House read.

After basking in the glow of a diagnosis, it suddenly hit House what Foreman was doing during the differential.

His employee had probed his most private area. Well, the scar on his thigh was really the area he most liked to hide, but apparently Foreman had been in the operating room and had already seen that.

House was mortified with the whole situation, but had to admit that he felt much better now that his penis and testicles were clean. The antiseptic wash was less than pleasant and stung, but it did help.

Now that he was alone, he sighed and allowed himself a slight groan as another surge of pain radiated through his entire hip and thigh area. His lower back hurt as well.

He looked across the room and suddenly realized that he was not alone. The woman had a book in front of her face…an upside down book that is. The teenager was openly staring at him and not even trying to hide his shameless observation. Well, House did prefer honesty.

House suddenly realized that she was the hot woman from the elevator and the stranger holding his hand last night.

This was embarrassing.

He abruptly remembered his curiousness about her boobs. Now the upside down book was blocking his view. That could be remedied.

"I know you were checking out my massive penis."

Claudia wasn't expecting him to say anything. "What makes you say that?"

Casey chimed in, "Your book is upside down. It is just like lying. You might as well be honest about your curiousness."

House thought that was a pretty good statement.

He noticed that Claudia's face was reddening.

House shared one of his favorite phrases, "Everybody lies."

Claudia realized that her book was indeed upside down, so she decided to avoid pretense and put it on the bedside table.

Oh man, her boobs were to die for. The sweatshirt wasn't the most flattering attire, but dang…

House needed distraction, "I know my penis is stunning."

House was surprised when she jokingly replied, "Yep, I got a pretty good look at all of you last night while I was holding your hand."

Eww, darn. Desperately clutching a stranger's hand was not exactly one of his prouder moments.

Not only was the whole hand-holding thing embarrassing, but she now knew more about him and his condition than he would really want anyone knowing.

She was lightly joking about it, though. She didn't make him feel embarrassed or anything. She said that as if it was totally natural to desperately strangle a stranger's hand while finding out potentially life-altering information.

House figured he might as well satisfy his curiosity. "So, why did you let a total stranger squeeze the living daylights out of your hand?"

"You looked like you were in pain." Claudia thought that seemed like a good answer.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough for House. "There are people in pain all over the place. Are you going to go hold their hands as well?"

He did have a point, "No. What if I told you I only hold the hands of sexy men with stunning blue eyes? I figured I'd hold your hand since you weren't exactly in the right position for me to jump you." A slight smile playfully crossed her features.

That took House by surprise. "Are you flirting with a man who has a hard plastic tube up his penis and just let a nurse and his employee go probing his "special place" with cotton swabs?"

When you worded things like that it did sound awkward, so she just gave him a coy smile and responded, "Maybe."

It was at this moment that Dr. Wilson walked in. Whew, awkward situation averted.

Thanks for reading!

I did a ton of research for the botulism diagnosis – I promise I didn't make it up! It is possible I might change the rating to mature. Not for graphic sex, but more for language and potential "situations."


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you for reading. I really appreciate all of your reviews. I post faster with reviews : )

It was only about 6 am, but Dr. Wilson was already up and at it. Claudia realized that he was probably here early because Dr. House was sharing a room with Casey. Claudia remembered the nurse's discussion from the hall and the fact that House and Wilson were apparently best friends. Dr. Wilson washing his face certainly made a lot more sense now.

Dr. Wilson looked pretty tired this morning. Claudia couldn't even imagine the impact on an oncologist of your best friend being diagnosed with cancer. Judging by everything she saw last night, they were pretty good friends. You don't wash a casual acquaintance's armpits when he is incapacitated. It would stink to be a specialist in that situation because he would know EVERYTHING that could go wrong. Based on what she heard while she was holding Dr. House's hand, he was in for a rough ride.

Claudia realized that as a doctor, House must be terrified as well. She didn't know what kind of doctor he was, but he was presumably a medical doctor since he worked at a hospital. The other doctor, she had learned his name was Foreman, had been consulting with Dr. House on a patient earlier. It must take balls to treat a patient considering how sick he was. Basically, all Claudia caught from the discussion were big words flying all over the place. She couldn't help but notice the excitement laced in Dr. House's voice, though. As he talked about medicine, she found herself riveted to the sound of his voice even though she had no idea what he was talking about. She figured some snooping would be in order later to find out more about him.

Dr. Wilson approached Casey's bed first and picked up his chart while giving a quick, "Good Morning."

"Casey, I'm going to start you on the final stage of prep for the surgery. We'll do some imaging tonight and I'll speak to the surgeon about getting your surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning. As your oncologist, I won't actually be performing the surgery-"

Casey interrupted, "I know the drill."

Dr. Wilson nodded, made a few notes in Casey's chart and then moved over to the other bed with a quick nod.

At least Dr. Wilson didn't seem to have any problems with Casey's methods of dealing with doctors.

Dr. Wilson examined House's chart briefly and talked to him for a bit. He seemed to ask questions, but House just answered with a grunt or other monosyllabic answer.

He sat down next to House and handed him some papers. Claudia noticed Wilson lightly place his hand on House's left shin as he talked in low tones. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but the air was fairly somber.

Wilson visibly checked the swelling around House's hips. "How does your leg feel?"

House glared.

"Let me rephrase. Any numbness or tingling?"

"No."

"Have you had any muscle spasms in your thigh?"

"No."

Wilson checked House's toes for capillary refill. "Looks okay. Dr. Mathis will be in later to more thoroughly check things out."

Wilson sat down in the chair close to House's bed on his left side.

"Now that you're a little more awake, I thought you might want to see all the details." Wilson handed House the results from all his blood tests. He also had images ready for House to look at.

House grabbed them and then realized he still didn't have his glasses.

House let out a sigh, "Wilson, I can't read these."

"What's wrong with them?" Wilson reached for them back.

House softly replied, "I need my glasses."

"Oh, where are they?" Wilson kicked himself for not remembering them. He knew House was sensitive about how often he needed his glasses – although he would never admit it.

"The corner of the desk in my office"

"Okay. I'll get them."

Wilson left the room. House squinted at the results as if his vision might fix itself.

House knew Claudia and Casey were no doubt watching, but he was feeling vulnerable at the moment. He decided to pretend he was alone.

When Wilson came back, House grabbed for the glasses. His hands were shaking and he had trouble grabbing them. After a couple of fumbles, he got them.

House really didn't want to admit how nervous he was about looking at all of his results. He knew what Wilson and Mathis had said, but he wouldn't know exactly how bad everything was until he got a look for himself.

He started reading through the results. He took the images as Wilson handed them to him.

"Wilson, this is bad. Heck, some oncologists would just recommend palliative treatment."

Wilson nodded, "I corresponded with several other top oncologists and I think you deserve to know what they thought."

Wilson was starting to doubt whether he should tell House these things. Last night, he got the impression that House was willing to do treatment, but he knew House didn't know all of the details last night.

"That is what several of them suggested." Wilson held his breath for House's response.

"What are you suggesting? Do you seriously think I'll recover?"

Wilson sighed, "Odds aren't good. The metastasis into your bones is very bad. There may be more in other parts of your body that we don't know about yet."

"Is there ANY chance I'll get past this – into remission?" House's imploring look was unnerving. He had never seen House ask him anything this seriously.

"Yes, there is a chance." Wilson met House's gaze.

He saw something in House's eyes that he had never seen before: pure, unconcealed fear.

House gulped. Wilson could tell he was groping for words.

"Okay. Let's do it." House's voice cracked on the short sentence.

"You ready for this?"

"I'm too stubborn to give up." House gave Wilson a reluctant half smirk.

Wilson knew that House's stubborn nature would be crucial in getting him through this.

Wilson took a deep breath.

"If you're going to have a shot at this, we've got to hit this it hard. We have to get this orthopedic crud taken care of before chemo or radiation, but there is one thing we can do while you are under for this surgery. One option for treatment is hormone therapy. Testosterone is necessary for prostate cancer growth. "

"Please tell me you're not about to suggest what I think you're about to suggest."

Wilson grimaced, "House, it's not a cure; however, it can slow the growth and spread. We know this cancer is more aggressive than most cases of prostate cancer and we know it is spreading. Testosterone production would be reduced by about 90 percent. This isn't a cure, but it can help. This is a good option in conjunction with the other therapies you'll be starting."

House gulped and asked, "What about medication to block testosterone?"

"It increases the chance of blood clots. You know your history and the fact is you will be laid up for a while and immobile."

House and Wilson sat in silence for a moment. Wilson was starting to think that House might not reply and that he should give him some time to process.

"Wilson, I'm not going to have testicles." House whispered this without even looking at Wilson.

"I know House. I know." Wilson gave House's shoulder a quick squeeze.

Wilson sensed that House needed a few minutes alone, so he quietly left without another word.

Claudia had absolutely no idea what that discussion entailed, but it was obviously emotionally taxing to both men.

After Wilson left she saw House close his eyes and lean his head back. He couldn't physically turn his body, but she could tell he wanted to. He just turned his head towards the wall and brought his hand up to his face. She thought she heard a couple of sniffles, but it was hard to tell.

Not long after Wilson left, a nurse entered the room. Based on her past interactions with House, she was very surprised to see him looking vulnerable.

"Dr. House, would you like some ice chips? We aren't going to give you any solids because the doctors aren't sure when they will be operating. Your IV is giving you basic fluids."

"Yes."

"Okay, can I get you anything else?"

House gave the nurse a slight shake of the head.

The nurse turned to Casey, "Do you need anything?"

Casey sent her a scowl, but Claudia replied, "No, but thank you for checking."

Claudia's obsessive politeness to medical staff drove Casey nuts. He could see her rationale, but it seemed fake.

The nurse left to retrieve a small cup of ice and a spoon. When she walked back in the room, House appeared very somber. She wasn't sure if she should hand him the cup or offer to spoon them into his mouth. He had surgery less than twelve hours ago and she wasn't allowed to raise the head of the bed at all. She decided to play it by ear.

He didn't reach for the cup as she approached and he didn't even seem to register her presence.

"Dr. House, I can't raise the head of the bed any because of your hip. Would you like help?"

"I can do it." Dr. House's hand was lightly trembling as he reached for the cup.

She handed him the cup and the spoon.

The nurse continued to stand there after giving him the cup of ice. Presumably, she was waiting to take the cup when he was done.

House sarcastically asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

He really didn't want her standing there while he fumbled with the ice. He couldn't remember ever being this exhausted. He actually considered letting her spoon the ice into his mouth, but he still had a reputation to maintain.

The nurse looked a bit rattled, "Press the call button if you need anything."

House rested his shaky forearm against his chest and stared at the cup. House was exhausted, but his mouth was quite dry. He decided to forego the spoon and just dump a few into his mouth.

Mission accomplished: two pieces of crushed ice successfully placed in his mouth. He figured he would just leave the cup on the bedside table to his right.

Once he reached forward he realized the table was a little bit too far away. The thing was on wheels – who the heck leaves a patient's bedside table out of his reach?

He'd need to lean just a bit to his right to put the cup there. Okay. If he rested his forearm on the rail of the bed and used it to hold his weight, his hip should be fine. Then, he could just extend his arm with the cup. Excellent plan. Now, to just…House's gasp was audible as he leaned toward his hip. Even though his weight was actually on his forearm instead of his hip, the pain was horrific. With an audible gasp he reached for his hip with one hand and his thigh with the other. As he moved his hand he managed to dump the ice down his chest. Once his forearm was no longer holding his weight, it felt like a freight train slammed onto his hip.

He was panting, in even more pain, and covered in ice. This was just spectacular.

His field of vision was suddenly filled with the woman from across the room.

"Let me just get this ice before it melts."

Claudia carefully collected the ice off his chest and abdomen. After gathering the ice, she left her hand lightly resting on his chest.

She hadn't touched a man in ages and she suddenly found herself aroused.

House was torn on his options. He could yell at her to get away from him or he could show his appreciation somehow. She was hot.

He couldn't believe it, but he instinctively placed his hand over her hand that was still resting on his chest. House rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. Her hand was soft and the warmth felt delicious against his chest. Before he could stop himself, "What is your name?"

She responded, "Claudia."

He had no idea what was controlling his mouth, "That's a beautiful name. Claudia, your hands are so soft." WTF? "Thank you, Claudia." Okay, salvage time…

"Anytime. What's your name?" Claudia already knew his name, but she felt like she should reciprocate. Not to mention, she was apparently unable to think right now.

"People call me House, but you can call me anything you want. My first name is Greg." Was he seriously flirting?

"I can manage that, Greg." Claudia leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

Despite the pain, House found himself smiling.

Casey's voice drifted into her conscious thoughts, "Sis? Come here."

Claudia squeezed House's hand and sprung into action to get over to Casey.

As soon as she got over to Casey she saw mischief in his eyes. He whispered, "Seriously, sis? Don't you think you should slow down a bit? I thought you were about to climb up in bed with him!"

Casey saw the dreamy look on his sister's face – a look he had never seen before. "I'm afraid I would hurt him if I tried."

At first he thought she was joking, but Casey realized that she wasn't kidding at all.

"Seriously? Go get me a tissue or something. Make yourself look useful."

Claudia walked to the bathroom to grab a tissue.

Casey looked over at his roommate and saw a similar look on his face. Was cupid hiding in here someplace? If these two looked any dreamier there'd be little cartoon hearts flying around and corny music playing!

Casey wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. That would remain to be seen.

House couldn't quit thinking about Claudia. She was beautiful. She came over to him when he needed help, but didn't make him feel helpless or ashamed of needing someone.

Some people had to make a huge production of helping. It seemed that every time he went to the store and was carrying a bag out someone would get the door for him. That was great and helpful, but they always had to accompany it with, "Here, let me get the door since you have that cane. Do you need me to carry something?" It was always loud so that everyone nearby would know he had a cane and someone was helping him with the door. Why can't they just open the door, he pass through the door and nod thanks? In the winter people sometimes felt the need to include, "Be careful on the ice. It sure is slick – I'd hate to see you fall." Yes, he needed help sometimes and he actually did appreciate it. He just wished people could be more subtle about it.

She made it feel natural – both yesterday with the handholding and now with the spill.

Who ever thought spilling ice on yourself with a pillow wedged between your legs, a big honkin' brace on your broken and already crippled leg, a breezy hospital gown, and a catheter could feel sexy. Oh, don't forget the gurgling machine attached to the cold wrap he had strapped around his waist. Despite all of this, the way she looked at him felt hot!

My gosh, he was hurting. He hadn't been in this much pain since his infarction. Everything felt stiff, too. At least he could wiggle a little bit, but he didn't know how long that would last. Based on what Mathis said, he wouldn't be able to move at all one he was "placed in" this brace after surgery. More surgery! He still felt so weak after this past one. Anesthesia had always made him feel like crud.

It suddenly hit him again that not only would he wake up trapped in some contraption, his testes would be gone.

He found himself attracted to this woman, but what would she think if she knew he was about to lose…his manhood.

He'd still have his penis, but between the prostate cancer, lack of testicles, and almost eliminated testosterone, it was possible that he might not be able to get an erection again for a long time. He wondered how much this would affect his sex drive.

He never planned to have kids anyway, but would a woman want him if he didn't have any balls? He already had his bad leg and cranky demeanor going against him, but this would really kill his sex appeal.

A few minutes ago Claudia had made him feel attractive, but now he just felt trapped inside a cancer-riddled, broken body.

I have had a few messages asking, so I will go ahead and say that I do not intend for this to be a deathfic. I won't make promises, but it is not in my outline of current plans. There will definitely be a good deal of angst, though. (and some other stuff!)

Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you all for reading, reviewing, etc. For the sake of this story, Sam and Wilson are still together.

Wilson returned later that afternoon. He had finished his appointments and saved House and Casey for last so that he could sit with House for a while. He wanted to be there when Mathis came in to check House, but mostly he was concerned about House's emotional state after he had agreed to surgically remove his testes.

House would never admit to being emotional, but Wilson knew House's emotions were intense.

He always had trouble dealing with emotions, so he just held them all in. Wilson wondered if House might actually explode someday.

Wilson briefly checked Casey and let him and Claudia know that his surgery was scheduled for tomorrow morning provided the images turned out okay.

Wilson moved across the room. He decided he needed to hold the "friend" title for now. He plopped down on the chair next to House.

"Hey."

"What?" House seemed less than thrilled to see Wilson. House knew that Wilson had arrived for his amateur psychoanalysis session.

"I just wanted to stop by and check on you."

House looked at him with a sneer. "Aren't you going to go home and sleep or something? Or is Sam mad at you right now? Perhaps she won't let you in the bed? Or is it occupied by someone else?"

House was definitely upset. This was "run Wilson off" mode. He obviously didn't want to talk, but Wilson decided he would at least stay until Mathis came.

"So, uh, how are you feeling?"

"Do you feel obligated to ask that just because 'MD' is found after your name?"

"House, I care about you."

House let out a deep sigh. "I know you do. Wilson, go care from somewhere else."

He appreciated Wilson even though he often had trouble expressing it; however, he didn't feel like he could deal with anything right now.

Wilson was suddenly feeling very awkward.

Much to Wilson's relief, Mathis walked in the door.

"Hello, Dr. House. How is the leg and hip feeling?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yes."

"Painful. Miserable. It feels like I have a bunch of broken bones. Gee, I wonder why it would feel that way. …such a mystery"

Mathis took all of House's sarcasm in stride. "Point taken. I'm going to check for swelling and then check your leg."

Fortunately, House was wearing the type of hospital gown that opened from the front. Nurses were pretty clever with that kind of thing.

Mathis opened his gown and pulled the wrap away from his right hip.

"The swelling looks a bit better, but not where is should be. Have you tried to move or shift at all?"

House gave her an innocent look.

"I suppose that is a 'yes.' Gregory House, don't you dare move a muscle in this busted up lower body of yours." She sounded like an upset mother.

"What part of 'be still' did you not understand? The hip abduction pillow is designed to keep you still, but if you deliberately try to move, it can't do its job. Do I need to tie you down?"

House just glared.

After letting out a little huff, Mathis continued, "I'm going to lightly palpate the area."

Mathis reached forward and began to feel around House's right hip.

"Damn! Aaahh. Uhh… is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

Despite his protests, Mathis continued to probe his hip, "The swelling doesn't feel quite as bad as it looks. I'll look at you again in the morning and hopefully operate tomorrow afternoon. Don't you dare try to move. I'm going to check out that right leg now."

"Can't that wait? The leg is obviously here, it's killin' me right now."

"Nope, I need to look."

Mathis moved further down his bed and reached for his leg.

"You'll feel a change in pressure as I open the brace."

Mathis carefully undid the fasteners and eased the brace open.

House paled slightly, "Ow, holy…" House clamped his jaw shut. His heart rate began to rise and his oxygen saturation dropped some. His heart rate was already high from palpating his hip, but Mathis was starting to get concerned.

"House, I need you to take deep breaths for me. I want you to concentrate on remaining calm. Wilson, bump his oxygen up some." House was still wearing the nasal cannula, but Wilson gave him even more oxygen. House's stats began to calm down.

"Okay, House. I'm just going to take the dressings off and look. I'm not going to touch your leg any more than I have to. Nod your head if you're hearing me."

Although House's eyes were closed, he gave her a slight nod.

Mathis carefully removed the gauze pads covering the sutures.

There was a little bit of blood and pus in the area.

Wilson saw the quantity of stitches and the condition of House's leg for the first time since his latest surgery. Wilson started to gasp and comment, but Mathis quickly saw his reaction. Her main objective was to keep House calm and finish this up.

"Dr. Wilson, go and get supplies. I need to clean and redress the area."

Wilson started to protest, but Mathis's body language told him that she was not giving him a suggestion. She meant business.

House hadn't seen the area and he wasn't trying to look. Mathis didn't want House to notice Wilson's reaction and get upset. If House asked, she would certainly tell him that she was concerned about the possibility of infection and the quantity of stitches they had used directly through the scar tissue and surrounding area, but she didn't want him to see the look of horror on Wilson's face. She knew House had seen the x-ray images, so he had a pretty good idea of how bad it was, but seeing it in the flesh might be distressing right now.

Mathis could have called in a nurse, but she would prefer taking care of this herself. She didn't want to upset House more than necessary.

Wilson returned with the supplies.

"Dr. House, this is going to sting." He seemed somewhat zoned out. "Dr. House, are you with me?" She didn't want to catch him by surprise or cause him to jerk or move the leg because the brace was currently open.

She got no reaction from House, so she lightly placed her hand on his shoulder. When he met her eyes she continued.

"Dr. House this is going to sting."

House mumbled, "Okay."

Mathis carefully cleaned the area and gently felt around for any heat that might indicate infection. Once she was satisfied, she gently applied a large non stick dressing.

"I'm going to close the brace again. Focus and stay with me, House."

House barely whispered, "Yeah."

She carefully closed the brace around his leg and secured it.

"Does that feel too tight?"

She could tell the pain was really getting to him. "I don't know."

House was never an "I don't know" kind of guy. He always KNEW. She could tell he was totally overwhelmed. Probably by pain and emotions – she knew that he had agreed to have his testes removed. That would probably upset any man. She decided she should just let him be.

"Okay. If it starts feeling too tight, call a nurse."

"Yeah. I'm tired."

"Try to sleep for a few hours." She reapplied the ice wrap on his hip and double checked how his hips were positioned.

Dealing with the pain had apparently used up all of his remaining energy as he seemed to drift off before she even left the room. She made a few notes and indicated for Wilson to follow her to the hall.

"If the swelling goes down a bit more, I think we can operate at some point tomorrow. We need to watch him for any fever at all. I'll see you tomorrow."

Mathis headed out for the night and Wilson returned to the room and sat next to House.

Wilson had rescheduled all of his appointments for tomorrow except for Casey Black's surgery. Casey was already prepped and Wilson would not actually be performing the operation himself. Also, he would be able to easily monitor him since he was in the same room as House.

He was already talking to other oncologists about reassigning some of his cases. Once House got into the cancer treatments he would probably want a lighter case load.

House was so out of it that Wilson decided he might as well go home. Contrary to House's commentary, Sam would be glad to see him. He told the nurses to page him at the first sign of fever.

Claudia was in the room watching as the orthopedic surgeon appeared to be torturing Greg.

She found herself wanting to either go hold his hand or punch Dr. Mathis in the face. It was one of the strangest feelings she had ever felt. It felt very similar to the feelings she had whenever Casey was going through a medical procedure, but this guy was a virtual stranger. She had spent years with her brother and they had been through everything together. It seemed normal to have these kinds of feelings about her brother, but these feelings for someone she barely knew?

She felt like she knew this guy! Just the thought of him put the "L" word in her head. This was crazy.

She had had a few boyfriends over the years, but they never made her feel like this! Was she going insane? Why did he have this hold on her?

Thanks for reading. If you feel inclined, I would enjoy your reviews.


	16. Chapter 16

A new chapter for you guys – there is some House/Claudia stuff this time!

House slept for a couple hours after Mathis examined him and then woke a bit later.

He was sore and tired, but he didn't think he'd be able to sleep.

He found himself plagued with a problem he had experienced on an off for most of his life: boredom.

His roommate across the way, Casey, was asleep so there was no entertainment value there.

House was quite disappointed to see Claudia gone.

He really wanted his ipod.

House perked up as he heard the door open. It would probably be a nurse to check his vitals.

Claudia entered the room. House could tell she was trying to be quiet. She approached her brother's bed and noticed that he was asleep. She turned to sit down, but noticed House's eyes were open. He was awake! Claudia felt a little shiver run through her spine as she met his eyes.

Instead of sitting next to her brother, she approached House's bed.

"Hey, Greg. Do you mind?" She gestured to the chair next to his bed.

"Have a seat."

Claudia sat down next to him. She was at a loss as far as what she should say.

"I saw your surgeon in here earlier. You must still be hurting pretty bad." Whew, Claudia. Great choice – that was quite possibly the worst comment she could have chosen.

House was annoyed that Claudia had noticed him in pain and his snark took over, "Well, thank you Captain Obvious for clearing that up for me. I never knew I was hurting!" Drat! Why had he just said that to the beautiful woman he was attracted to?

Much to his surprise, she laughed. "Okay. That was a stupid comment – I'm just trying to make conversation. Let's think of a safe topic."

"Are you married?" popped out of House's mouth before he could stop himself. Okay, that wasn't exactly a safe topic, but House had been wondering.

"No. You?"

"No." Well, that went over okay.

"So, Casey is your brother?" House asked.

"Yeah. Do you have any siblings?" Claudia thought she was on safe ground.

"Only child. My mom lives out of state."

"My parents live out of state, too."

"What do you do?" Might as well satisfy his curiousity some more.

"I work for a technology firm. I do most of my work via the internet and only go to the local office about once a week. What kind of doctor are you?"

"I'm head of the diagnostics department here. I have a double specialty in nephrology and infectious disease."

"You sound important."

"I am. I take the cases nobody else can solve. I have a team of doctors working for me and they do most of the dirty work. Sometimes I don't even bother to meet the patient. I'm the best at what I do – it's all about the puzzle."

"I can see that you are so very humble."

"I wouldn't list humility as one of my strengths. Why be humble when you know you're right?"

House's little smirk was tantalizing to Claudia. She laughed.

"Humility may not be a strength of yours, but boy are you are sexy."

House's expression showed a bit of shock.

"Did I just say that out loud?" Claudia actually hadn't meant to say that part. She was now slightly mortified – at least it was out in the open now!

"Yes, you did."

Claudia wasn't sure what to say now. "This is awkward."

"Not really. It's good to make observations. You're sexy as hell. I can tell you're smart and you make me feel weird." House's response surprised both him and Claudia.

Claudia wasn't sure how to respond. The look in House's eyes told her that it was a compliment, but she wasn't sure how to react.

"Weird as in you wish you could run from the room?"

"No, weird as in I wish I could lean forward and kiss you."

"Well, I suppose I could remedy that." Claudia leaned over his bed and went straight for his mouth.

Their kiss was full of passion as their tongues pushed out towards each other. This was probably the best kiss Claudia had ever had. His hands were now on her face as they kissed. She could feel his IV line against her cheek and his nasal cannula brushing against her nose, but it didn't matter. As she leaned forward she suddenly lost her balance. Her first thought was that she might hurt him.

He quickly reacted and grabbed her by the shoulders before she could fall on top of him.

Claudia's first instinct was to apologize, but when she looked into his eyes she knew that was probably the worst possible decision. He looked embarrassed and apologetic.

"Claudia? Are you okay?" House's voice was soft and almost reluctant.

"Yeah – I just lost my balance." Claudia reached forward and ran her hand across his cheek.

"That was an awesome kiss, until I fumbled it." Claudia was trying for a light joke, but he apparently didn't perceive it that way.

House pulled his hands away from her shoulders. "No. It's my fault." House's voice was soft and he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Claudia reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. "How do you figure?"

House looked nervous and sad, "Because I'm trapped in a hospital bed and I can't kiss you like a normal man."

"Look at me." When House didn't respond, she grabbed the sides of his face and guided him until he met her eyes.

"Hospital bed or not, no man has ever kissed me like that. I lost my balance because that is the best kiss I ever felt in my life."

Claudia grabbed the chair from behind her and pulled it as close to the bed as possible and pushed the rail down on that side. She reached for the hand without the IV line. She could tell he still felt uncomfortable, but he didn't pull away. She planted a kiss on the palm of his hand.

"That good, huh?" He still looked hesitant, but a little bit of a smirk was back.

"Yep."

"Listen Claudia. I'm really attracted to you, but-"

She broke in before he could finish his sentence, "That's good because I'm attracted to you, too."

"BUT, you shouldn't be attracted to a man who might be dying soon."

"Well, by the same principle you shouldn't be attracted to me because I might get hit by a bus tomorrow." Claudia pointed this out with a smirk.

House returned her little smirk. "Very funny. You know what I mean."

"What are you suggesting? I sit around and fantasize about you until it might be a good time to date you?"

"No. I'm saying you should forget about me and find someone healthy, someone who can love you and take care of you like I would never be able to."

"Cancer isn't a death sentence. What makes you say that?"

"You saw me in the elevator the other day. Even before the cancer, I had a bad thigh and had to use a cane. Now, I…" House just glanced down at his right leg immobilized in a large brace and strapped to a pillow for stability.

"Guess what? I'm not attracted to your thigh. If I chose men by their thighs, I'd be dating some awkward body builder with a tiny IQ who knew how to use a bench press, but couldn't do much else. I'm not interested in dating your thigh."

"That's the thing. I can't even take you on a date. I'm going to be in the hospital for the immediate foreseeable future. I'm about to have surgery. I'm going to have some massive brace on and then I'll start cancer treatments. That won't be sexy. It'll be gross."

"No it won't. I don't care about restaurants and movies. I just know I've never felt a connection like this to anyone in my life."

"True, but-"

Claudia cut him off again, "Let's call this our first date. We chatted, we shared a smokin' hot kiss – a kiss like that is a rare occurrence on a first date."

"There is something else."

Claudia was starting to think she would never get through to him.

"I'm sure it's something that doesn't matter, but what is it?"

"They're removing my testes tomorrow."

Claudia laughed at this one.

"What's so funny? I may not have any sex drive. I have prostate cancer! Why would you want me?"

Claudia got her laughter under control, "Well, if I just wanted sex I'd order a damn vibrator. I'm not attracted to the thought of sex. I'm attracted to the way you argued with your boss in the lobby, the excitement in your voice when you were talking about that patient with Dr. Foreman, your sense of humor, that funny little smirk you get, your sensitivity, your blue eyes, the look I see on your face when you look at me…"

"You should write greeting cards." House's snicker was actually genuine.

Claudia gave him a little slap on the shoulder.

"You're going to have to come closer because I need to give you a peck on the cheek to end our first date."

Claudia was internally relieved. It looked like she had gotten through to him.

"Greg, can we cheat and have a better kiss?" Claudia was already bringing her head in when she asked.

He reached forward and pulled her in for a hot kiss with lots of tongue that left them both breathless. House had to just breathe for a minute.

House glanced at his monitor and told Claudia, "We have to be careful or my monitor is going to go off and a slew of nurses are going to come running in here."

"I guess I'll have to beat them off with your IV pole because I don't share! They're going to have to find their own hot guy!"

Claudia and House both laughed. Although House was laughing carefully with one hand on his hip and a slight grimace, it still counted.

Thanks for reading – please review if you feel so inclined.


	17. Chapter 17

(NOTE: Thank you all for reading, reviewing, alerting, etc. It means a lot – especially your thoughts in review form. This is short, but it's the second chapter of the day)

Once Claudia had moved away from his bed, House started thinking. If he were to take medications to block testosterone, he could keep his testicles. Sure, there was risk, but he already had a lot of risks stacked against him. What would be one more?

If he was even going to think about a relationship with Claudia, he needed testicles. If he kept his testicles, he could go off the blocking meds after all this was over and he would likely be able to get decent levels of testosterone again.

Wilson wouldn't be happy, but Wilson's testicles weren't the ones on the chopping block. After all, this was a quality of life issue.

After deciding to keep his testicles, House drifted off to sleep.

HOUSE MD

Claudia thought Casey was asleep, but he heard a lot of her and Greg's discussion. Although it was dim, there was always enough light in a hospital that he could see almost everything.

He thought she needed a man in her life, but Casey agreed with House. Should she get involved with a man who had cancer?

She never did anything for herself. Most of her life in recent years involved her job and caring for Casey.

What if a relationship with this guy was something she wanted for herself?

Based on what Casey had figured out about House so far, he was a perfect match for Claudia.

Casey could already see his sister falling for this guy, but was that a good thing? She would spend hours at his bedside taking care of him. Did she want that for herself? If she loved this guy, then she probably would want to care for him. Claudia was a strong, independent woman. She had gone years without a man in her life.

Casey decided he needed to hurry up and get himself better so that he could support Claudia in whatever decisions she might make. She needed a life outside of Casey and he needed a life outside of his damn cancer. If she got involved with Greg and things went poorly, Casey might need to be there to pick her up again.

His own prognosis was really good this time – they had caught it early. This surgery would probably be the worst part, but then he might only need a short round of chemo or radiation. He said ONLY, but even some was a big deal. Still, it shouldn't be as hellish as his last bout with cancer.


	18. Chapter 18

(Happy New Year! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, etc.)

House slept on and off for most of the night, but he didn't feel rested. He just felt even more tired. Even a day and a half later, he could still feel the aftereffects of the anesthesia. He would probably be getting more anesthesia today so that they could operate on his hip and pelvis. The very thought made him cringe.

Claudia woke up very early. She noticed House was asleep, but Casey was awake and staring at her.

"Hey. You ready for surgery today?"

"I suppose. I heard last night that you wrangled yourself a man." The mischievous look in Casey's eyes put her on high alert.

"You were awake?" Claudia felt a touch of annoyance that her brother was apparently eavesdropping and watching her and Greg last night. As much as she loved her brother, that was kind of an intimate moment between her and Greg.

"Yep, I was awake. Nice show. I didn't catch all the dialogue, but the visuals were stunning."

"Nosey brat!"

"That I am."

Despite her anger, Casey noticed how bright and alive his sister's eyes looked. He hadn't seen her like this in a long time. He knew Claudia loved him as much as a sister possibly could, but he also knew that his own illness had taken quite a toll on her and that he often seemed less than appreciative.

Claudia suddenly got a contemplative look on her face and turned to her brother. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Casey's first thought was to answer 'no,' but his sister looked so hopeful. "I don't know." Liar! "I guess it would be impossible to know until I found myself in that situation."

"I think I do." Claudia looked all dreamy again.

"It seems there would be a fine line between love at first sight and sudden infatuation."

Claudia looked a bit disappointed at his words, but she appeared to be thinking about it.

"Of course, sudden infatuation would be more likely to happen with George Clooney than some sickly looking hospital patient."

"Hey! He is not just some sickly looking hospital patient!" Claudia would have yelled this, but she didn't want to wake up Greg. Instead, it came out as an urgent hiss.

Casey gave her a somber look. "He's the sickly looking hospital patient that you seem to be falling head over heels for."

Claudia and Casey were both silent for a few minutes.

Claudia finally whispered, "Yeah."

She had to acknowledge that Greg was sick. He was weak and hurting now, but he would probably start chemo and then he'd be vomiting, sweating, feverish, gasping, and in even more pain. She figured that was what Greg meant last night when he said he'd be 'gross.' On top of all that, he'd be immobilized in a brace.

Could she take care of Casey and love someone as sick as Greg at the same time?

She knew her brother. He would get though the worst of his illness and then push her away ASAP. Even after they knew his cancer was coming back, he was already talking about applying at Princeton University. She wondered about the wisdom of that, but knew that there was no way to stop him if he made up his mind.

Greg really wouldn't have the option of pushing everyone away because he wouldn't be able to take care of himself in this situation. Of course, he could just let the nurses take care of him; however, he wouldn't be capable of driving people from the room even if he wanted to.

Casey saw the contemplative looks cross his sister's face, but more than anything he saw a look of fondness as she glanced across the room at the sleeping man.

He wanted his sister to be happy. "If you think you could love him, then I guess you have to go for it."

Claudia gave Casey a small smile.

Casey went back to sleep for a little while, but Claudia stayed awake alternating between watching Casey and watching Greg.

Was she making a mistake? Should she really start some kind of relationship with him? All those things she said last night, could she be leading him on?

He didn't look too sick just sleeping over there – it wouldn't be too bad, right?

HOUSE MD

The lights were on full blast by 6:00 am and there was a lot of activity in the hospital room as Casey was taken for surgery. All of the noise jolted House out of a fairly decent nap.

Claudia was standing back as the nurses worked with Casey.

"Claudia!"

She turned and headed back to House.

"You're awake." She reached out and rubbed his shoulder. She had found that he seemed to respond well to physical contact from her.

"Is he being taken for surgery?"

"Yes."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

Claudia leaned forward and gave House a kiss. She intended for it to be a brief kiss, but he quickly deepened it. Oh my gosh, how could she step away from such a kisser? This is hot! Adrenaline told her to lean in and grab another kiss, but Greg's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Go. They're taking him."

Claudia looked up and saw that they were indeed taking Casey out.

Once Claudia stepped away, House was slightly breathless. Damn, she was a good kisser. It felt like there was some sort of electricity coursing between them. He had always felt a 'current' when he was with Stacey, but nothing like this!

Casey was taken out of the room with Claudia following behind. Well, it appeared he wasn't the only one getting surgery today. He had overhead that they were removing Casey's stomach today. Definitely not fun, but at least he could have narcotics. A morphine drip sounded like heaven right now.

House couldn't quit thinking about Claudia even though the pain was ramping up again. He tried to distract himself.

He wanted to know how his patient was doing – why couldn't Foreman come and give him an update?

He knew they wouldn't be bringing him any breakfast because they would be operating that afternoon – hopefully. He felt too queasy to eat anyway.

The hospital charged for cable now, right? He should have it as a department head – maybe Wilson took care of it. House carefully reached for the remote. Bingo, it was close by. He had been very careful not to shift at all. He turned on the TV and discovered that he did indeed have cable. This should keep him distracted for a while.

Mathis entered the room a few minutes later.

"Hello, Dr. House."

"I have actually been doing as you said – I have been totally still."

"Good. Let me look." Mathis carefully undid the ice band around House's hip and examined the swelling.

"This looks much better. I'm going to schedule you for surgery in a couple hours. I need to contact the brace shop so that I can have a couple techs here to make any modifications needed on the brace. I don't know an exact time for you."

"I need to tell you something." House decided he would rather tell Mathis about his decision than Wilson.

"…and that would be?" Mathis sounded puzzled.

"I've decided to keep my testicles."

Mathis didn't let it phase her. "Have you opted for the medication route?"

"Yes." House thought this seemed remarkably easy.

"Okay. I'll make a note. Anything else?"

"Could you send Foreman up here?"

"Sure. See you later, Dr. House."

It was a relief to get that out in the open.


	19. Chapter 19

Now that House knew his testicles were staying and his surgery was coming soon, he found himself a lot more agreeable. At least he'd be out for a few hours! House was ready to get this show on the road. He felt like he'd been in some sort of holding pattern just waiting for the swelling around the tumor to go down.

The longer he waited, the more anxious he started to feel. He wasn't worried about the surgery, but he felt anxious and uncomfortable.

Foreman came wandering in about 10 minutes later.

"About time you got here!"

"I hear you're up for surgery in a couple hours."

"Yep, but right now I'm up for finding out how my patient is doing."

"You were right."

"I knew I was right! I didn't ask if I was right, I asked how my patient is doing."

Although he would never admit it, Foreman actually respected House's confidence in his abilities and total lack of humility. Sometimes he found himself starting to get that way, but he knew deep down that he wasn't a good enough doctor yet to adopt that mindset – maybe someday. That mindset in a lesser doctor would be dangerous.

"We haven't seen much response to treatment."

House rolled his eyes. "Is he getting worse?"

"No."

"If he's not getting worse, that means the treatment is helping and holding the botulism back. He should gradually start improving. It takes time!"

"Okay, House. You don't have to get all worked up."

House was becoming increasingly agitated. House stopped talking for a minute and took a few deep breaths. Foreman didn't leave because he sensed House was about to say something else.

"Foreman, sit down." House seemed dead serious.

Foreman sat down in the chair next to House's bed and focused on him. House almost seemed…nervous?

"Foreman, I need to put you in charge of something."

"Okay." Surely House wasn't about to turn over the department or something? Foreman really thought House was planning to fight the cancer.

"This is medical and personal."

"Okay."

House just stared at Foreman for a minute. In all honesty, this made Foreman nervous.

"I need you to promise me something."

Foreman nodded hesitantly.

"No matter what I say, or Wilson says, or Mathis says, don't let them put me on narcotics."

"House, why are you telling me this? Just tell Wilson and Mathis."

"If I'm in enough pain and I'm begging for it, Wilson will cave and give me anything. Mathis holds a lot of stock in my abilities as a doctor – she lets me make my own decisions. I appreciate that now and when I'm totally 'with it,' but in the middle of the night when I'm screaming for vicodin because I'm out of my mind in pain, she'll still trust my opinion as a doctor. She won't acknowledge that I'm a patient in pain. She doesn't know when to let me decide and when not to, so she will always let me decide. Which is great 9.9 times out of 10, but that .1 times involves narcotics and I may not be able to make my own decision if I'm in pain."

"That makes sense. So, you just want me to remind them that you don't want narcotics."

"NO, not remind them. I want you to forbid them from giving me narcotics." House was starting to get out of breath again.

"Okay, but I also want you to tell Wilson and Mathis before you go in for surgery today. I want make sure we are all on the same page."

House looked relieved.

"We good on this?" House could see where Foreman would want him to remind Mathis and Wilson as well. He knew that Foreman didn't want Mathis and Wilson to have his hide later; however, House trusted Foreman to hold his ground no matter what Wilson or Mathis tried to do.

"Yeah."

House met Foreman's eyes and gave him a slight nod and quietly said, "Thanks. I trust you."

Foreman just stared at House. This was quite possibly one of the most moving experiences of his career. Foreman knew House trusted him as far as patient care went, but House's own care? This was mind boggling.

"One more thing. I called someone on the hospital's legal staff. They should be here in a few minutes. I'm signing my medical power of attorney over to you in case we reach a point where I can't make my own decisions. You'll have my proxy."

"You don't want Wilson to have it?" Foreman would have thought House would trust Wilson the most, but he knew that Wilson allowed his emotions to dictate his decisions. That wasn't necessarily a good quality in medicine.

"When he is upset, his emotions make all of his decisions. Once he finishes rubbing the back of his neck raw, he'll give in to whatever zany thoughts are flying through his head."

Yep, exactly what Foreman was thinking.

"I know what you mean."

"You can still work on my case as needed, but I want you making decisions if I can't. You're rational. You would know when to pull the plug and when to keep going."

The hospital lawyer came in. It is amazing that you can turn over the ability to make life or death decisions in about 3 minutes when you have hospital legal staff at your disposal. (and you're a department head who demands instant service)

"I want you to scrub in on my surgery today – just in case."

Foreman met his eyes and they both exchanged a nod of understanding. Foreman realized this was also his dismissal.

He left the room and leaned against the wall for a minute with his head tipped back.

Did House seriously entrust him with this? His life? Apparently.

Foreman could only hope that he would never have to decide "when to pull the plug" as House so eloquently put it.

Foreman quickly straightened up as he saw Wilson approaching House's room.

"Is House okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'm going to go in and chat with him. Mathis said she's operating today."

"See you later Wilson." With that, Foreman hurried off to what had become his sanctuary over the years, the diagnostics department.

(Thanks for reading. Happy New Year! PS: I really like reviews!)


	20. Chapter 20

(NOTE: This is pretty angsty, but I still don't intend to kill House. I am exploring various characters and their viewpoints.)

After talking to House, Foreman contemplated the latest case.

He told House that the patient used heroin, but he didn't even mention the patient going to California. House's brain assembled things so quickly that Foreman often found himself in awe of his intellect.

Foreman looked over into House's office. It felt weird to see it empty and know that House was in a hospital bed. He was so used to hearing that damn red and gray ball bouncing, music blasting, a cane spinning, or House and Wilson yelling at one another that it would be strange for the office to be silent and still. Sometimes House sat and thought in silence, but he was often doing something at the same time.

He had seen House hospitalized several times over the course of working for him: the gunshot wounds, the knife in the light socket, the deep brain stimulation and heart attack surrounding the bus accident, even Mayfield. He had heard about House's infarction episode during the lecture he gave. House always seemed to bounce back. House was different after Mayfield, but he eventually came back pretty dang strong.

Foreman brought all of House's results up on the computer – things were bleak. He didn't know if House could "bounce back" from this. House was tough. He figured House would either give in so he wouldn't have to deal with treatments or fight this tooth and nail. He knew that if House started treatments, he wouldn't give up. He would hang in there and be stubborn as hell – if for not other reason – on principle. House had his weird set of ethics, but giving up wasn't a part of that code.

House would most likely be hospitalized through all of the treatments. After tomorrow's surgery, he wasn't sure if House would even be allowed out of the hospital in the brace. Now that the cancer had spread in his bones to this extent, House's entire lower body was very fragile. His left leg seemed to still be good and cancer free, but his left pelvic girdle would still be tender and fragile just because it was attached to the severely broken right portion of his pelvis. Once the cancer treatments started, he would probably go through horrible side effects. There were too many dangers to allow House out of the hospital.

Would House ever make it back to his apartment? Would he sit in the chair behind his desk again? Would he stand in front of the whiteboard rolling the marker between his fingers while he berated them and called them idiots? Even if he survived the cancer, Foreman suspected he would never see a gaudy motorcycle parked in House's handicapped space again. Even if it healed, his right femur would be very weak because of the bone erosion. If they got rid of the cancer, they might be able to go back in and work on it; however, House would probably be so weak for so long that it might not be worth it.

Would he slowly waste away trapped in a hospital bed?

Foreman realized that if House was in decent shape (or even if he wasn't physically) if he was alert and sound mentally, he would want in on cases. If they needed to haul a whiteboard to House's hospital bedside and hold differentials there, he would make sure it happened.

If he had to, Foreman would tackle Wilson and Cuddy out of the way. Of course, this would only be if House was safe to do so and Mathis gave him the okay. He wouldn't put House at risk or cause undue stress with this plan.

Mathis had received Foreman's stamp of approval. She was really on top of her game and made reasonable decisions. The fact that House respected her as a physician spoke volumes.

It was excellent that she had a double specialty in oncology and orthopedic surgery. Foreman knew his father would call it divine intervention, but Foreman would just call it one of the advantages of working at a top teaching hospital. Since she had the dual specialty, she could also be House's oncologist of record. Wilson was a great oncologist and Foreman respected him professionally, but he wouldn't be able to emotionally designate House as a patient. House would need Wilson to hold the 'Best Friend Who Happens to be a Physician' title, not the 'Physician of Record' title. Foreman was sure Wilson would still get his opinions out there, but he knew that Mathis would make the treatment decisions.


	21. Chapter 21

"Hey, House." Wilson casually entered the room hoping to find House in a decent mood.

"Wilson. Have a seat. I need to tell you a couple of things."

This was certainly interesting. House usually just spat out whatever he wanted to say with little regard for ramifications. Wilson hesitantly sat down next to House's bed.

"I don't want any narcotics." House abruptly stated.

"That's good because I'm not giving you any." Wilson was somewhat puzzled.

"No, I mean – even if I'm screaming bloody murder on my deathbed, don't give me any. I'm too worried about the hallucinations. I can't go through that again."

"What if we reach the stage of palliative treatment only?" Wilson hated to ask that, but he needed to know. He figured at that point it would be okay to give House narcotics.

"No, I don't want narcotics! I don't think you understand. I mean NO NARCOTICS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES." House's heart rate was rising and he was starting to pant.

"Okay, House. You don't have to get upset. You took off you nasal cannula. Let me put it back on."

House seemed very out of breath. Wilson calmly reapplied the oxygen tube to House's nose and over his ears.

"You shouldn't have taken this off. Look at you oxygen saturations. You're still weak from the anesthesia during your surgery."

"You have to understand…"

"House. Breath."

"Seriously, I want you to promise me that no matter what happens you won't give me narcotics."

"I won't give you narcotics."

House seemed satisfied for the moment and just sat there breathing. "My lungs kind of burn."

"What do you expect when you take off your oxygen, you idiot?"

"Shut up."

Wilson decided to just stay calm and placate House.

After a few minutes, House's oxygen saturation levels had risen again and he started talking.

"Also, you know how you've had my power of attorney since Stacey left after my infarction..."

"Don't worry, House. I'll take care of everything…"

"Well, you're not my power of attorney anymore."

"What?" Wilson looked profoundly hurt.

"You get too emotional. I want someone totally rational under any amount of stress."

"I'm rational."

"Sometimes." House sighed.

Wilson seemed upset.

"So, who is it?"

"Foreman."

"Who?"

"Eric Foreman. He works for me, you've probably met him."

"Half the time it seems like you two hate one another."

House rolled his eyes with a scowl. "No, we don't hate each other. That's just professional disagreement. He is the most rational person I know – aside from myself, anyway. I don't want you in the position to make decisions when you are emotionally unstable."

"If you don't trust me…" Wilson got up and began pacing the room.

"It's not like that! You know-"

Wilson interrupted, "No, you know what House, I'll…I'll… talk to you later."

Wilson left the room in a huff after being told that he no longer had House's medial power of attorney.

After Wilson left, House felt like crud. Why couldn't Wilson understand how logical this was?

Look what happened with Stacy. If some difficult decision came up, he didn't want Wilson making it.

House still felt very out of breath. It seemed like he felt out of breath when Mathis was checking his incisions yesterday, too.

The oxygen cannula was still on his face. He pressed the call button.

When the nurse entered, House got straight to the point.

"I need more oxygen and I can't reach the adjustment." He desperately wanted to try and reach it, but if he ever wanted to get the surgery over with, he was going to have to be still. Maybe once he had the brace on he would be able to move a little bit.

"I'll page your doctor."

"I am a doctor and I need my oxygen turned up."

"Still…"

"Turn the damn oxygen up and get out of my room!"

"I'm going to page your doctor."

Mathis came through the door almost immediately. "The nurse said you needed more oxygen?"

"Yes. Why she couldn't just turn it up I'll never understand."

Mathis walked over and turned his oxygen up.

"Did this just start?"

"I've noticed it before."

Mathis grabbed her stethoscope, warmed it and pulled House's gown aside. She tried to listen to his breathing from the front of his body, but quickly found out that the angle wasn't what she needed.

She pressed the call button for a nurse.

Mathis addressed the nurse, "I need to listen to his lungs from the back, but I don't want him leaning forward. I want you to put both arms behind his back and support him with your forearms. I want him held at exactly the same angle. I am going to recline the head of the bed while you hold him. Once we have enough space, I'm going to reach in and listen to his breath sounds. You just be prepared to hold him until I'm done. Make sense?"

The nurse nodded.

She turned to House, "Okay?"

House was curious. "What if I said no?"

"I would have to come up with some other way to listen. Any ideas, Dr. House?"

"That's fine. I just wanted to see how you would respond." House smirked expecting Mathis to be annoyed, but she wasn't. This was disappointing.

Mathis took a deep breath and nodded at the nurse to hold House. Once she had a firm grip on him, Dr. Mathis tilted the bed back until there was a gap.

"You okay House?" He looked very uncomfortable.

He responded, "Yeah. For now." House hated having the nurse's arms holding him up. He felt totally out of control. What if she dropped him? He wouldn't be able to catch himself. He knew she wouldn't drop him, but he still didn't have control of his own body!

Mathis reached in and listened in several spots. "Deep breath. Another." Mathis continued to move the stethoscope around on his back listening from different place. "Okay. I'm going to raise the head of the bed again. Keep him still. After she raised the head of the bed, the nurse carefully pulled her arms out.

"Thank you." The nurse left.

"House, you're lungs sound clear. Have you had reactions to anesthesia in the past?"

"Yeah. I get out of breath, nauseated, and weak. I figured that was why I was having some trouble breathing, but I decided to humor you." House said this with a smirk, but apparently Dr. Mathis didn't see the humor behind it.

"Since we'll be giving you anesthesia again so soon, we'll keep a close eye on your oxygen saturation. If we need to leave you intubated after your surgery, we will. Or we may leave a mask on you instead of a nasal cannula. Don't panic when you wake up after the surgery. Okay?"

"I really don't think that will be necessary"

Mathis interrupted, "You'll be out. If I decide it's necessary, by golly you'll wake up surrounded by any equipment I see fit." Mathis certainly was determined. Maybe Mathis would hold a little stronger than House thought.

House sarcastically responded, "Aye, Aye, Captain."

He could tell Mathis was not amused, but she wasn't annoyed either. She was no fun to aggravate.

"Don't you dare remove that nasal cannula. I'll see you soon for surgery."

Mathis made a note in his chart and left the room.

(NOTE: I realize everyone doesn't react to anesthesia with respiratory exhaustion, but that is how I react. I figured I'd follow the old phrase 'write what you know.' Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated)


	22. Chapter 22

Mathis found her scrub nurse and surgical team.

"We're taking Dr. House in to prep for surgery in about an hour. I know Wilson is in surgery with another patient, so we'll make sure he's almost done before we put Dr. House under. Dr. House has been short of breath this morning, so we will have to watch him closely during surgery."

HOUSE M.D.

Wilson had just finished up with his part in Casey Black's surgery and was scrubbing out. They still had to close, but Wilson's part was through. The others would finish up, close, and take him to recovery. (Most patients went to recovery, only House got the privilege of going straight to his room with a doctor at his side. Ever since the infarction, House always tended to freak out if he woke up in recovery or ICU.) Casey's surgery was going well. He briefly checked in with Claudia and headed out.

He still couldn't believe that House didn't trust him anymore. Foreman? He seriously trusted Foreman more than him? He had known House for years.

No matter how mad he was at House, he still cared. He knew Mathis wanted to do surgery soon, so he hurried off to check in with her.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia was on pins and needles all though Casey's surgery. She was pacing, drinking coffee, and wringing her hands constantly. She had never been very good at waiting. She felt like she should be focused on Casey, but she couldn't help but wonder if Greg had been taken for surgery yet. If he had, how was he doing? There were quite a few other people in the surgical waiting room, but she didn't recognize anyone. Of course, Wilson was still in Casey's surgery and the other people he had seen around Greg were all medical people, so they were probably doing their jobs. She suspected that they wouldn't start Greg's surgery until Wilson was done with Casey's surgery.

After they had been in the OR for a while, Dr. Wilson came out. He told Claudia, "So far, so good" and then hurried down the hall. She knew that Dr. Wilson's primary purpose in the surgery was to visualize the cancer and assess it. He wouldn't actually perform the surgery. She figured his part must be through.

They had Casey closed by about 8:40. Claudia thought it seemed like things went really quick. The surgeon checked in with her briefly and told her that Casey was in recovery. They would be returning him to his room shortly.

Casey was drifting in and out of wakefulness and they were back in his room by 10 am. She noticed that Greg was gone. Nurses were still tidying things up, so she figured she had probably missed him on the way to his own surgery.

HOUSE M.D.

Mathis was talking to her team when Wilson approached. He saw Foreman there with them. Apparently Foreman was scrubbing in, too. Great.

"Wilson, I'm glad you're here. House is in prep – he's still awake if you want to talk to him."

"Nah, we talked earlier." Wilson didn't want everyone to know that he was irritated with House or that House didn't trust him anymore.

She turned to one of the nurses, "Go ahead and tell them to put House out."

Mathis then turned to Wilson. "Let's scrub in."

The nurses had already left to scrub in, but now the doctors went to scrub in as well.

"Okay." Everyone was scrubbed and gowned at this point and House was out.

House was already positioned on a special table designed for orthopedic surgeries.

The pillow bracing his hips had been removed and a smaller sterile brace was now on House's right thigh to protect his surgically repaired femur. Mathis had an extra resident in the room that was in charge of House's right leg. It was his job to handle House's right leg through the surgery, make sure it was protected and safe, ensure it was angled exactly as Dr. Mathis requested, etc. This would be a long surgery and they certainly didn't want to open his right leg again. It was important that the bone remain stable because if the bone shifted, chances were good that the artery would start leaking again and they would be exactly where they were the day of House's fall.

House was hooked up to a heart monitor. House had suffered a couple of heart attacks in the past, so they wanted to monitor him very closely. He didn't have any current heart problems, but he had a heart attack during the infarction era and another heart attack after the bus accident/alzheimer med dose.

The hip and pelvic area was already cleaned and prepped. Mathis started with a 5 inch incision where the tumor was positioned. Her policy was always to make as small a cut as possible and then expand the incision as needed. She liked to keep things minimal. In this case, she quickly saw that the incision was not large enough, so she lengthened it.

Dr. Mathis collected cancerous cells from the growth near House's hip so that Foreman and Wilson could examine them under a microscope.

Wilson stayed scrubbed in until Mathis was finished removing the tumor. It appeared that the actual tumor was gone, but there were no doubt still cancerous cells in the area.

Mathis now had enough room to navigate bones into place. Mathis and her residents now set to work on the bones as Wilson scrubbed out. Foreman stayed behind to assist as needed and monitor House.

Wilson was tempted to stay in the OR, but he was already tired and needed a break.

Wilson grabbed a cup of coffee and some food. Between the two surgeries, he had missed lunch.

After lunch, He headed over to the diagnostics department to check in and let Taub know that the tumor was out. Chase was on standby in the surgical department in case any extra hands were needed, so he already knew the situation. Wilson figured he was probably in the gallery watching the surgery on the monitors.

He didn't particularly feel the need to notify Taub, he just wanted somewhere to walk to and burn off some steam.

Wilson returned to the oncology ward to check in and see if Casey Black was alert. If he was, he would go ahead and brief Casey and Claudia.

(Thanks for reading - reviews are appreciated)


	23. Chapter 23

Casey was fairly alert a few hours after his surgery. Wilson was always amazed with how quickly teenagers could bounce back. Wilson called the surgical gastroenterologist and they both entered his room.

When he first entered, it seemed eerie to see the other half of the room empty. House had been there, but now he was gone. The space seemed small now that House wasn't in it. House always seemed larger than life, but Wilson now realized that he was just like any other sick patient.

He reminded himself that House was in surgery and would be fine for now.

With other patients, Wilson would probably start with some sort of pleasantry and socially appropriate greeting, but he could already tell that 'socially appropriate' wasn't Casey's thing.

Wilson spoke before the gastroenterologist, "Your surgery went very well. We took lymph node samples for biopsy and they were clear. This is very good news.

The average hospital stay for a gastrectomy, or total stomach removal, is 6-12 days.

I am recommending one round of chemotherapy. The cancer is contained, but studies are showing a definite improvement in long-term prognosis if the patient receives further treatment after the stomach removal. The cancer cells should be totally gone, but additional treatment is believed to cut any re-growth off at the pass. It looks like we can send you home here in a week or so. You can recuperate for about a month and then come outpatient for chemotherapy."

Wilson's pager started going off. He seemed to know what it was before looking. As soon as he actually read the screen, he headed for the door. He turned to Claudia and Casey right before leaving, "I've got to go, but he'll finish explaining."

"You'll have to excuse him. His best friend is in surgery right now." The gastroenterologist was quick to explain Dr. Wilson's departure.

Claudia felt a streak of anxiety run through her. Greg? Had that page been something bad about Greg? She hadn't known Greg long, but she felt a strong connection to him.

The gastroenterologist didn't seem to notice her reaction and began to further explain the surgery. Claudia quickly tuned back in for information about her brother's surgery.

"Fortunately, we were able to do the surgery laparoscopically assisted. We still had to make a decent sized incision to remove the stomach, but we did not have to create as wide an incision in order to navigate or view the abdominal cavity. We created several 1/3 of an inch incisions to insert camera probes. This should greatly decrease your post-op pain and speed up your recovery. Many gastrectomy patients are elderly and that slows their healing process. At your age, the chances of a quick recovery are excellent. Once the stomach was removed we were able to use intestinal tissue to create a new 'stomach.'

"We then attached the new 'stomach' to the small intestine. The nasogastric tube through your nose is temporary. It will be used to suction out any excess acid that gathers in your stomach – particularly what gathers before you can eat. Originally, we thought you might need a feeding tube, but the surgery went excellent and it does not seem necessary. When we start to hear bowel sounds, we will know that your digestive tract is starting to function and we can introduce clear liquids. It will probably take 2-3 days to start hearing bowel sounds. If clear liquids go well, we can gradually build up to small meals.

I would like to avoid Parenteral nutrition, but if there are significant problems, it is an option. Parenteral nutrition involves total nutrition through intravenous delivery. Right now we are giving you a basic solution of fluids, but not enough nutrients to fully sustain you for any length of time.

Any questions so far?"

"No." Casey was quick on the draw. He knew that if he didn't answer, Claudia might be likely to strike up some conversation with the doctor.

The gastroenterologist continued, "I will be checking in on you some, but Dr. Wilson will be the primary doctor following your case. Are you in any pain right now?"

"No. My whole abdomen feels kinda numb. It's uncomfortable, but it doesn't hurt."

"Good, that is to be expected."

"We will start you on a morphine drip shortly so that it will be in place once the numbness wears off."

"You are probably feeling groggy, but that effect usually wears off very quickly in a person of your age. We kept you under for less than 3 hours. Any concerns?"

"No." Casey replied. The doctor actually looked to Claudia as well and she shook her head.

"Okay. Try to get some sleep. I'm sure Dr. Wilson will be back in later."

(Thanks for reading!)


	24. Chapter 24

(NOTE: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Your support is appreciated!)

While the gastroenterologist talked to Casey and Claudia, Wilson hurried to the surgical suite to see what the issue was. He was relieved to find out that things were going okay. Apparently Mathis wanted to check in with him and see if he wanted to look at any more tissue samples.

Wilson thought about going home for a while, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with the knowledge that House was in surgery. He decided to grab some more coffee and watch from the gallery.

When he got up to the gallery, Chase was no longer there. He looked down and found that Chase was scrubbed in. He figured they must have needed more hands. Wilson was somewhat hurt that nobody asked him to assist, but he was also slightly relieved. It would be illogical to ask him anyway because Chase was actually surgeon. Merely seeing House's bones exposed and hearing the surgeons pop and tap things into place was almost more than he could stand. He didn't want to see his best friend's innards.

Wilson had often heard orthopedic surgeons refer to their jobs as a type of exercise and he certainly believed it. They appeared to be manhandling House down below. He knew it was a careful and calculated manhandling, but it still turned his stomach. He was glad he never wanted to be a surgeon because he would have had to do a rotation through orthopedic surgery.

Down below everyone was hard at work. Assistants were constantly wiping sweat off of Mathis's face. Beneath her mask she scowled, "This is a mess." She hadn't expected things to be quite this bad.

One of her residents chimed in, "Dr. Mathis, are you sure you don't want hardware?"

"Of course I want hardware, but we can't use it! Do you not remember everything we talked about before?" The residents had never her seen her get this irritated. Of course, it was a stupid question.

HOUSE M.D.

By the time they removed the tumor, took lymph node samples from his groin area, took a sample from the lymph nodes behind his right knee, pieced his pelvis and the head of his femur back together, checked that all of the bones were set well, and closed the multiple incisions, House was in surgery for almost 8 hours. The techs from the brace shop, Mathis, and her residents spent at least another hour or two getting the brace adjusted and everything positioned as needed. That was quite a job.

There was another series of X-Rays taken with House in the brace to see how everything looked. Dr. Mathis was actually very pleased with how well they got him pieced back together. She was particularly pleased considering she didn't use any hardware.

The largest variable was the bone erosion that they found around the site of the tumors. She felt like the prognosis for his bones healing was actually quite good. It would take a while for the bones to knit together, but she was optimistic about his surgery's probable outcome.

It was after 8:00 pm by the time they got House back to his room. Foreman was very tired, but he still decided to sit with House until he woke up. Someone needed to sit with him because they didn't take him to recovery. He figured once he checked his mental faculties, he could turn House over to the nurses and get some sleep.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia sat next to Casey's bed with a snack that evening. Casey was currently asleep, but he had been totally alert and in and out of wakefulness over the course of the afternoon and evening. She was relieved that his surgery seemed to go well and that the doctors actually felt like the cancer was gone! He didn't even have an actual feeding tube right now. They said the nasogastric tube was temporary and just to drain acid.

It was getting late and the other half of the room was still empty. The evenings were quiet enough in the hospital that she could hear all the chatter out in the hall when she listened for it. She hadn't heard any news about Greg.

Just when she was starting to wonder if he had been put in a different room or something, a lot of activity started up across the room. All kinds of equipment was brought in. It looked like someone had raided and emptied half a supply closet.

The hospital bed brought in looked larger than a regular hospital bed. She decided she might be crazy – who ever heard of an extra large hospital bed?

When Greg was brought in there were so many doctors, nurses, and orderlies surrounding him that she could barely see him. It seemed to take several of them just to put him on the bed.

There was a lot of raising and lowering of the head of the bed and careful arranging of pillows. How it could take that many people to put someone in bed was mind boggling.

She adjusted herself so that she could get a good look at Greg without appearing to stare. He looked extremely pale. He seemed to look older now.

With everything Casey had gone through, she was used to seeing sick people, but this whole setup that Greg had was absolutely daunting and they hadn't even started cancer treatments. (aside from removing the tumors from his bones)

He had an IV with multiple bags attached to it, all kinds of leads coming from his chest, a heart monitor, the standard pulse ox, a catheter bag, a cannula delivering oxygen...

Casey had been in surgery today, but he wasn't on oxygen anymore and didn't have this much equipment surrounding him.

If this was after the initial surgery, what would Greg look like by the time he started the actual cancer treatments?

All the equipment was substantial before you even considered the brace. She examined his brace from across the room. It was far larger than she expected. He was spread out in an awkward position and he looked helpless.

Claudia was doubting herself. Could she deal with this? If she was already in a relationship with him, it probably wouldn't seem so huge, but to start a relationship with a man in this condition? Was she insane?

(NOTE: I used to know an orthopedic surgeon and she would talk about how much of a workout it was and how brutal things were in the OR. She could tell some fascinating stories about various procedures she performed! She was super buff and never worked out except in the OR.)


	25. Chapter 25

(NOTE: This chapter is highly detailed regarding House after he wakes from surgery. Some of it is fairly medical, but this is also a study of House's reactions. I like details and I'm big on mental images, so I included details. I did a ton of medical research and looked into the latest orthopedic procedures, but there may still be errors! Please bear with me.)

House could feel himself drifting in and out of wakefulness. He couldn't quite register all of the sensations in his body and surroundings, but his mental faculties seemed intact.

At about midnight he felt awake mentally, but still obscenely sleepy. Foreman's face swam into his line of sight.

"Can you hear my voice?"

"Yes, you idiot." House's voice sounded mumbled and strained, but Foreman was relieved to hear that he was definitely there. "You're right in front of my face breathing all over me."

"What is your name?"

"Doctor Gregory House. I'm at PPTH." House's voice was getting fuzzier. "I'm sleepy."

Foreman was very relieved, "Okay, you can go back to sleep now."

He left the room to let Wilson and Mathis know that House's faculties seemed intact. First, he stopped by the nurse's station to let them know that he would no longer be in House's room.

House was already asleep again.

At about 4 am, House drifted to consciousness and had a lot more awareness of his body. He was relieved to only feel a nasal cannula instead of a ventilator or a mask. He must not have had any respiratory crises during surgery. His breathing didn't feel perfect and he definitely wouldn't be trying to remove the cannula, but he was pleased that he wasn't wearing a mask.

He still felt exhausted, but pried his eyes open to see if Claudia was on the other side of the room. He didn't see her, but he couldn't get a good view of the entire room from his position. He let his eyes drift closed for a few minutes.

He started an inventory of his body. He had a very uncomfortable sensation in his right hip and pelvis, but the whole area was actually pleasantly pain free and numb. They must have injected him with a localized anesthetic while he was in surgery. That meant a few hours without pain in the area. This was like heaven. His right leg didn't hurt much either – they must have injected something there, too. Maybe this was heaven!

He could feel it, but he figured he would go ahead and open his eyes to survey the contraption he was in. He wouldn't admit it, but he was secretly fascinated. Even though he was sick and was the patient, he still couldn't turn off his scientific mind.

His right leg was jutting off to the side in an awkward way. His leg was turned out as if he was doing a horrible imitation of the "butterfly stretch" that you do in middle school PE. Of course, his knee wasn't bent in to complete the butterfly's 'wing'. Oh no, his leg was stretched almost completely out with just a slight bend at the knee. He had seen in the x-rays that the head of the femur, or the ball part of the hip's ball and socket mechanism, was broken with an extended hairline crack running along his femur. Of course, the brace also supported the break farther down his femur that had been repaired the day of the fall. The brace immobilized his ankle and extended around the arch of his foot, but his toes and about half of his foot felt exposed to the air. There was a mountain of pillows and foam wedges carefully piled underneath and around his right leg. He also had pillows at his sides and surrounding his hip. He briefly wondered if they had raided geriatrics to get all of these pillows.

It used to be common practice to place adult hip, femur, or pelvis injury patients that needed a cast in a hip spica cast with their legs slightly spread or relatively straight in front of them, but some fractures actually healed better if positioned differently. It was more important that the broken bone be held straight and aligned than the limb be held in a natural or comfortable position. He wasn't expecting this awkward angle, but he knew this was his best shot at everything healing. He would have no choice but to deal with it.

His right leg was turned out and sticking up, but his pelvic bones were squared up so that his butt cheeks were against the bed. Although his thigh was actually positioned so that it was resting atop a pillow on its outer side, there wasn't any pressure on it. Cool...he could see why Mathis was so excited about this thing. He felt pretty numb, but he could already tell that the position of his mangled thigh was substantially better than when he was wearing the other brace. If his right leg was propped straight up in front of him for an extended length of time, it would have created a pulling sensation in what was left of his thigh and hamstring. At least Mathis had considered the pain in his muscles. His bad thigh was probably another reason his leg was positioned so weird.

Instead of his right heel resting downward, the position of his leg resulted in his foot lying on its side with his ankle level. A good portion of his foot was exposed and there was some sort of weird looking fleecy thing under his foot. It was probably to avoid pressure sores.

House was pleased to find that his left leg was positioned straight forward in a normal, comfortable fashion. There was a slight bend at the hip and there was at least one pillow tucked under there and there were a few under his knee and calf, but they actually made him more comfortable. The brace did indeed end a couple of inches above his left knee.

He quickly realized that he was not in a standard hospital bed – this one was wider. It was like a double wide hospital bed. The thought struck him as funny – almost like a double wide mobile home.

He wasn't centered on the bed, either. He body was to the left to allow room for his right leg to jut out.

He briefly contemplated if he would even fit though a standard door while wearing this thing – definitely not. He supposed he could go sideways if the need arose, but the sliding doors on PPTH rooms were huge and there were certain patient elevators that allowed for this sort of thing.

He remembered them mentioning being able to MRI him in the brace, but that was a joke. There was no way he'd fit. He guessed they hadn't been able to tell exactly what the breaks looked like until they were in surgery.

His torso was tilted slightly up. He wasn't quite lying down, but he was pretty dang close to it.

With how rigid the brace's shell was and all the padding he was apparently surrounded with, it seemed like his lower body was far too large to match his upper body. His right leg reminded him of a super fat, deformed tree branch. This was lovely.

He could see areas that looked like that would snap open and closed. They looked kind of like those little doors on devices that used batteries. They were really tight together, but he could tell they opened and they probably lifted out. It was pretty cool to have portions of the brace that opened, but didn't diminish the rigidity or protectiveness of the overall brace. He noticed an opening at his right thigh – he supposed they would need to check the dressing around the sutures from the artery that had been bleeding and the incision from repairing his femur. Well, they would also have to monitor his thigh muscles very closely.

A little bit of cast padding and liner stuck out the top of his brace a near his nipples.

NIPPLES? He could see his nipples – it suddenly registered that he wasn't wearing any clothes! He didn't even have a hospital gown on.

This development was awkward and weird.

He abruptly felt a weird urge to cross his arms over and cover his chest. What? He wasn't even an overly modest person!

Now that he thought about it, it was fairly logical not to put clothes on him. It wasn't like they would be putting clothes underneath the brace. If they put the clothes around him it would be awkward to get the clothes changed and off again.

It felt nice to have some air around his shoulders and arms. He was briefly considering throwing a fit until they put a shirt on him, but he would put that on hold for if he changed his mind.

He did have a towel draped over his lap to cover his privates. He could still see the catheter snaking out. Gross.

He did note with relief that although the brace held his hips, sides, and leg in a totally rigid position, there was space around his abdomen for easy breathing. He would rather his whole body didn't feel this rigid, but he was grateful that at least his lungs felt okay. They didn't feel restricted or uncomfortable if he took a deep breath. House was not at all interested in developing pneumonia.

The way his legs were tilted to elevate his right leg meant there was enough of an angle that eventually they might put his legs down a bit and let him sort of sit up. That would be nice, but they would probably want his right leg elevated for a while.

Although he really wished he wasn't trapped in it, House had to admit that this brace was VERY well designed.

He felt a sudden itch below his left knee. He instinctively reached for it. He came up short as the brace stopped him and made him feel frozen.

What was he supposed to do, press the call button and ask a nurse to scratch his knee? This was pathetic.

He suddenly felt very anxious. He felt trapped – this was like claustrophobia.

What was he going to do? How long was he going to be in this thing? Sometimes bones could heal in six weeks, but he knew these breaks were bad and there was also bone erosion from the tumors.

He wasn't exactly a spring chicken, either.

What about chemo? That would weaken his body even more and make it hard for him to heal. He was already weak from the blood transfusions after the artery issues. He could be trapped in this brace for a while!

House started to feel panicked like he couldn't deal with this.

He could hear his heart monitor going off and felt his lungs burning. His oxygen saturation must have lowered because he heard a wailing sound from the monitor.

He began gasping for air.

All of this sound was too much - he couldn't get away from it. He put his hands on the bed next to his body and tried to shift, but he just started tipping over towards his left. He felt himself sliding in the bed and it seemed like there was an avalanche.

He heard footsteps in the hall. People were surrounding him. He started waving his arms around to get some space. He felt an oxygen mask pushed onto his face and people grabbing him around his torso, but it just made him feel more claustrophobic.

"Dr. House, are you in pain?"

House was frantically trying to move, but the brace confining him wouldn't budge.

He couldn't even respond as the room started to shrink around him.

(Thanks for reading – reviews and comments are appreciated)


	26. Chapter 26

(NOTE: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I apologize for not responding to each review individually - just know that your reviews and comments mean a lot to me. Reviews motivate me to write faster and thus post more often!)

Shirley was the night shift's head oncology nurse. She had worked at PPTH for years and had witnessed the complex friendship that House and Wilson shared. It seemed you never saw one for too long without the other appearing. Shirley had a lot of contact with Dr. Wilson and she respected him as a doctor and as a person.

Dr. Foreman had let her know that he was leaving Dr. House's room and that House's mental faculties seemed intact.

There wasn't a doctor in the room anymore, but Shirley was willing to bet that Wilson was still in the building somewhere. She didn't think that he would be too far away since House had been through surgery that afternoon. He was pale and looked sickly. She knew he had already had two surgeries - one of them a rather long surgery. His chart also showed a major blood transfusion the afternoon of his fall. She also knew he was a chronic pain suffer and what a toll that could take on the body. His history showed two previous heart attacks, an infarction in his thigh, gunshot wounds, an electrical shock, an insulin overdose, deep brain stimulation, a psychotic break as a result of extended vicodin use, hallucinations, and several other strange medical incidents. Dr. Wilson's handwriting, which Shirley knew well, also showed an entry citing, "Suspected severe chronic insomnia - patient has not sought treatment. Possible efforts of self-medication."

His history made him seem like some sort of magnet for freak medical problems and incidents. Maybe that was part of why he worked so hard diagnosing bazaar medical conditions. He always seemed so stoic and strong, but he had been through a lot of crud. She always spent a while studying the charts of patients who would be on the unit for a while, but his was fascinating in a very morbid sort of way.

She had been looking in on House repeatedly this evening and he was still very out of it. Anesthesia seemed to really knock him out. Dr. Wilson left a note that he was very sensitive to anesthesia. His vitals held steady, so she wasn't worried.

She saw at the station that his heart monitor was starting to fluctuate and his oxygen stats were dropping. As she approached, she heard moaning from his room. She sped to a run. When she got there she saw that two of her nurses were already there.

One was trying to hold down his flailing arms and the other was trying to support and hold his torso so that he wouldn't hurt himself.

He was tipping towards his left and pillows were falling from around him. She immediately paged Dr. Wilson noting an emergency.

She got another nurse in the room. "Hold his right leg. His pillows are falling. Make sure he doesn't bump it against the bed or anyone's arms. The brace is protecting it, but he's very fragile."

Shirley was calm and controlled as she organized her nurses.

She saw his oxygen saturation had fallen and his heart rate was rising. She saw that he was gasping, which ruined the effectiveness of the nasal cannula. She removed it and placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.

This seemed to make him panic even more.

Wilson came running into House's room. Literally, he was running. His hair was sticking up on one side. Shirley had never seen Dr. Wilson with this little composure.

Wilson wished he had sat with House so that he wouldn't wake up alone.

"What's going on?"

Shirley quickly jumped in. "His heart rate is up and his oxygen sat is falling. I applied a mask, but he seems panicked. I think he's trying to fight the brace."

One of the nurse still trying to hold his arms threw in, "He's combative. I asked about pain and he didn't respond."

Wilson quickly took charge, "Let go of his arms. Just hold his torso and his right leg."

The nurse looked at Wilson doubtfully, but released House's arms. Wilson approached the bed and grabbed House's left hand around his IV. House immediately began to squeeze Wilson's hand. He apparently needed contact. House's eyes looked totally panicked.

He grabbed his hand to comfort him, but he also wanted to prevent House from pulling his IV out.

House responded favorably to Wilson holding his hand, so Wilson sat down on the bed to his left and helped the nurse get House straight on the bed again.

Wilson turned to Shirley and whispered, "Don't give it to him, but have some Ativan ready just in case."

"House, squeeze my hand and look at my eyes."

House's eyes continued to dart around, but he stilled.

Wilson whispered to the nurses, "I've got his torso, keep holding his right leg and get the pillows positioned around him again."

"House." Wilson really didn't want to drug House again right after he came out of anesthesia, but he wanted to be ready.

When House's eyes locked with Wilson's, he started to talk to him.

"Are you hurting?"

House didn't answer.

"Nauseated?"

No response.

"Agitated?"

House moaned in response.

Bingo.

"Claustrophobic?"

House moaned again and jerked his head up and down.

Wilson knew this was a feeling some patients felt when they woke up confined. He just hadn't anticipated it with House.

"Okay. That's okay. I want you to take as deep a breath as you can."

At first House didn't react, but he eventually followed Wilson's request.

"Exhale. Another deep breath." Wilson led House through several deep breaths.

His oxygen saturation gradually started rising and his heart rate started to fall. He seemed a lot more responsive now.

The nurses had his pillows arranged again and gently replaced his right leg on the pillows and positioned the foam blocks.

Wilson nodded to the nurses, "You can go - thanks."

With a tight nod to Wilson, Shirley led the nurses out. She put away the Ativan.

As House calmed down, Wilson continued to sit on the bed to his left and let House squeeze his hand.

Wilson's irritation at House for changing his proxy was starting to dwindle. He was still hurt by it, but Wilson figured he should just suck it up for now.

House needed his best friend. Even though he didn't have the proxy, he was still House's best friend.

Once he was a bit calmer, House started to talk, but Wilson couldn't understand him through the mask.

House seemed to realize this, so he reached for the mask with a shaky hand. His oxygen saturations were okay now.

"Do you want the cannula instead of the mask?"

"Yeah."

As House pulled the mask away, Wilson carefully put the cannula on House's face, took the mask, and switched his oxygen over.

House breathed for a few minutes without saying anything.

"Wilson, how long do I have to be in this thing?"

Great question. Wilson had no idea – there were too many variables. He figured honesty was the best policy.

"I don't know House. There are too many variables to even guess."

"When I start chemo, the healing will slow down."

If he were House, it would be time to throw in some remark about 'stating the obvious,' but he figured he should just hang tight and follow House's lead.

"Yeah." That seemed like as good a response as any.

"I'll probably have to wear this until chemo is over."

Everything seemed to be sinking in for House.

House just laid there for a while not even looking at Wilson. He wouldn't look at his own legs, either. He just stared at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, House spoke, "I don't think I can stand this brace."

Great. That was a whammy – how should Wilson even answer that. He told himself not to overreact – House was just processing this. Maybe House was just voicing his thoughts and a response was unnecessary - patients occasionally felt agitated after surgery.

House suddenly tensed and seemed to panic again. He started clawing at the fasteners on his brace.

"Get it off of me! Help me, Wilson. Get it off. You have to help me! PLEASE!"

Wilson felt frozen.

House wasn't making any progress with the fasteners since his hands were shaky and uncoordinated. He couldn't seem to accomplish anything except knock his hands together and fumble around.

He was managing to jerk himself around, though. He accidentally banged his right arm against the inside of his right leg and let out a muffled whine. The brace was there to stabilize the bones, but the vibration of his arm knocking into his leg still hurt. He had a localized numbing injection, but it wasn't enough to numb his entire leg as the vibration no doubt made his whole right leg hurt. The pain apparently made House reach for his leg, but he was totally unable to bend at the waist and the top of the brace stopped him before he moved an inch. He was still trying to bend, though.

All of these things seemed to happen so quickly Wilson could barely react. All he could think to do was get House still. He leaned all the way over and used his right arm to hug House's torso against his own torso just to hold him in place. House's arms were pinned between his own chest and Wilson's body. Wilson put his left hand under House's right leg to still him.

"Do something, Wilson! It's strangling me, I can't move."

Wilson usually was able to come up with ways to deal with House, but he had absolutely no idea what to do now. Shirley had left with the Ativan.

He was actually shocked that House had this kind of energy after surgery. Most of this was probably the product of anxiety-driven adrenaline.

Despite his continued movement, Wilson had House physically stable, but he had no idea what to do on the emotional front.

"WILSON! Help me…" House was weakening and was no doubt exhausted.

House was almost still and was quiet now. He dissolved into tears.

Wilson wasn't sure if he had ever felt this helpless in his life. He couldn't imagine how helpless House must be feeling right now.

Now that he was still, Wilson made sure his right leg was stable and then moved his left hand away from House's leg to rub his shoulder.

"Okay House, you're okay." He loosened his hold a little bit and House pulled his arms away from where Wilson had pinned them down.

Much to Wilson's surprise, House wrapped his arms around his back.

He was now in a full-fledged hug with House. In all their years of friendship, Wilson wasn't sure if they had ever hugged. Granted, House was laying down and Wilson was awkwardly leaned over him, but it was still a hug.

House's heart rate was lowering and the sobs were slowing down. As House pulled his arms away, Wilson released House as well and tucked a pillow against House's side so that he'd be more comfortable.

"I'm so tired, Wilson." House was rubbing his mouth. Wilson noticed how chapped his lips looked. He was probably thirsty.

"Do you want a drink of water?"

"Yeah."

Wilson grabbed the pitcher and got House some cool water along with a damp washcloth. He didn't hand House the water because he seemed shaky. Wilson put a straw in the cup and held it near House's face hoping House wouldn't yell at him or throw the cup across the room. It was always a fine line as to whether to help House or let him attempt things himself.

House took the straw in his mouth and took a few swallows.

"Washcloth?" Wilson waited to see if House would reach for it or if he wanted Wilson to wipe his face off.

House took the washcloth from Wilson and dabbed his face off and wiped his mouth.

Wilson took the cloth back from him and gave him another drink of water. House looked thoroughly exhausted.

"Do you want to go to sleep for a little while?"

"Yeah."

It didn't take long for House to drift off. Wilson put his head in his hands and struggled to hold back his own tears. Wilson resolved to stay by his bed in case House woke up and panicked again.

(NOTE: This may have seemed out of character for House, but I wanted to show the transition from House examining himself from an observant, intellectual standpoint in the last chapter, to an emotionally reactive standpoint. My goal in this chapter was to show House's humanity.)


	27. Chapter 27

(Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I have a couple chapters for you guys tonight.)

Claudia and Casey had drifted off to sleep until they heard a tremendous racket across the room. They watched the horrific scene play out in front of them.

Greg had woken up, but was totally freaking out. Four nurses were swarming until Dr. Wilson came in. Wilson got the situation under control, but Claudia couldn't quit staring.

She questioned the wisdom of a relationship with House earlier, but now she knew for sure that a relationship with him would be a very bad idea. She had to stay away from him.

Greg's body started to flail around again as he made whining noises and pleaded with Dr. Wilson to help him. The sound almost made Claudia sick to her stomach.

She didn't know if she could explain this to him. 'Sorry, Greg. Now that I see how sick you actually are, I don't think I can stand being around you. Good luck with this whole recovery and cancer thing. Have a nice day.'

That sounded shallow and heartless.

Once it was quiet, Casey drifted back to sleep, but all Claudia could do was stare at House's form across the room.

Dr. Wilson had crossed his arms and laid his head on the left side of Greg's bed. Even Dr. Wilson was asleep now.

Claudia sat up for a couple of hours staring at him.

Despite the comfortable recliner, she still couldn't sleep.

She felt awkward being in the same room as Greg. She decided the best thing to do would be to just leave the room – flee the situation before he woke up again.

She felt like a coward.

She glanced at Casey to make sure he seemed okay. He was sound asleep. She left a note, "Needed some air. Might get a snack or catch some sleep somewhere. See you soon. Call my cell if you need me before I get back." She put the note on the bed next to his hand and made sure Casey's cell was within his reach. She didn't know if cell phones were even officially allowed in this part of the hospital, but nobody had stopped her.

She wouldn't really be sleeping, but that sounded believable. She slipped out of the room.

Casey was sharing a room with Greg, so she would have to see him again eventually. She would put it off for now. Maybe she could request a private room for Casey. If they could move him before Greg woke up, she could possibly avoid Greg all together.

She doubted Greg had even told Dr. Wilson about their "first date."

At second thought, moving Casey would be ridiculous! How could she explain that?

She would just have to control her emotions.

HOUSE M.D.

House woke up again a few hours later to find Wilson with his head on the bed drooling.

He was surprised to find his hip and right femur just a dull ache. He didn't feel as numb as last night, but he was okay. They must have used something long acting. Did he even ask what they used last night? Although his thigh and hip were pretty numb, the rest of his right leg was really sore.

He opened his eyes and looked at his legs. Sure enough, the brace was still there. He vaguely remembered freaking out last night. He didn't remember exactly what he had said, but he had felt so stressed out. This was embarrassing.

He didn't even know what had happened.

He was actually surprised to see Wilson next to him because he figured that Wilson would still be mad at him over the whole proxy thing.

He looked across the room and noticed that Casey was asleep and Claudia was nowhere to be seen.

Wilson moved and looked up noticing that House was awake.

"Hey. How do you feel?"

"Thirsty."

Wilson poured House some water. House stuck out his hand to take the cup himself.

His hand was a bit shaky, but nowhere near as shaky as last night.

House took the cup from Wilson's hand and drank a few sips.

"Here."

Wilson took the cup back and sat in the chair next to House.

"What did I say last night? I think I kind of freaked out."

House didn't remember?

"You panicked a little when you woke up. Anxiety can be an aftereffect of anesthesia. You were feeling claustrophobic and you tried to open the fasteners and scratch the brace open."

Wilson wasn't sure if the anxiety and frantic situation last night was caused by the anesthesia, but he hoped it was.

"Huh."

"You going to fight the brace or try to get it off again?"

"No." Wilson could tell House was telling the truth and seemed to have some acceptance over the situation. "I want to get better."

"Good. That's good, House." Wilson felt enormously relieved. He felt emotionally drained. Based on last night, he was afraid House wouldn't want any treatment and would have some scheme to make them remove the brace.

House nodded.

"You smell like onions and sweat."

"I need a shower." Wilson hadn't cleaned up in a while.

"Yep. You do." House's smirk was barely there, but Wilson was glad to see it.

"Thanks, House."

"Anytime."


	28. Chapter 28

Casey woke up to see Dr. Wilson leaving the room.

He saw the note from Claudia. After the spectacle from Greg's half of the room last night, he figured Claudia was probably overwhelmed.

The brace was huge, but Casey was still surprised to see that kind of reaction from Greg.

If this guy was going to be around Claudia, he needed to make sure he could be emotionally stable. He figured he could excuse the episode last night since Greg had just had surgery, but he needed to feel Greg out some.

Besides, Casey was getting bored.

He couldn't see Greg's face, but he also couldn't quit staring at the monstrosity of a brace he was stuck in. He was suddenly quite grateful for the light gauze pad taped over his abdomen.

Claudia still wasn't in the room. It was time for some fun.

He schooled his voice until it sounded nice and pleasant, "I hope you realize how ridiculous you look right now." He wished he could get a really good look at House's face to see his reaction, but House was leaned back too far.

"Gee thanks. I'd tell you off with some biting remark about how you look except I can't see you from this 'ridiculous' position."

Casey was pleased. House sounded annoyed, but not actually mad. His tone on the word 'ridiculous' was delightfully sarcastic.

"If they turned you a little bit sideways to your left, the angle of your right leg would make you look like a dog lifting its leg to pee on a tree."

It took a second, but he heard House chuckle. "I didn't think about it, but it's true."

"At least I don't have a nasty tube running up my nose and a machine sucking stuff out of me. Give it a little bit and the tube will start suctioning acid out of your digestive tract and it will burn like bloody hell. You'll be too uncomfortable to make fun of me."

Casey could visualize the sneer on Greg's face even though he couldn't see it. The doctors hadn't told him that it would burn. When he had his previous surgery he didn't have a tube like this because they had only removed the portion of his stomach with the tumor. Greg seemed to have an intimate knowledge of this – Casey figured it was because he was a doctor. (He didn't realize that a bullet had torn House's stomach apart before and he'd found himself in a similar predicament. Not the same as having your stomach removed, but the same delightful equipment came along.)

"I guess I'll have to get in plenty of jibes in the meantime."

"Oh, you don't want to start that. I don't think you could stomach some of the things I might come up with."

"Since I don't have a stomach now, I wouldn't have to stomach anything."

"Oh, you won't be able to"

"If you can't come up with any other insults, I could give you a leg up on it."

Greg's snort was a little louder this time. "I don't think you could. I think my leg is about as far up as it's going to go. Besides, if you get to be too much I'll just throw a pillow at you. I would have quite an advantage in a pillow fight."

"All that equipment would get in your way. Despite the tube up my nose, you've still got more equipment than me. I guess I could call you 'Machine Man,' but I still think that 'Peeing Dog' might be catchier."

"I suppose you can call me whatever you want, but I won't be awake to hear it."

House's voice was tapering off as he finished the sentence and Casey gathered that he was falling asleep.

Casey considered trying to keep him awake, but right after a surgery…that would be too much, even by Casey's standards.

He knew his sister would really appreciate Greg's sense of humor. Claudia always got a kick out of really quirky things. Although she didn't have a biting or cruel sense of humor like Casey sometimes did, she did have a somewhat sarcastic sense of humor. She would also like Greg's puns. He would have to use the 'not being able to stomach it' at some point.

He was starting to wonder where Claudia might be. He figured she might have been distressed by Greg's reaction last night, but he figured she'd be back by now.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia was standing out in the hall about to enter the room. Things sounded quiet until she heard her brother talking. She couldn't believe what he had just said to Greg! That was cruel - especially after Greg's reaction last night. When Greg responded, she could tell he seemed to think it was funny. Greg and her brother had an easy banter. Greg's sense of humor seemed to be compatible with Casey's humor. Sometimes Casey tended to offend people. Telling people who just had major surgery that they looked ridiculous? Many people would be offended.

She chuckled to herself – the conversation was actually fairly funny.

She heard what Greg said about the tube and wondered if he was right. He was a doctor. Surely the gastroenterologist would have mentioned it, though.

They'd just have to worry about it if that happened.

She heard Greg's voice taper off as he fell asleep. She liked the way things seemed to roll off House's back – he was tough. She also liked his sense of humor. She would have to tease Casey about not being able to 'stomach it' at some point.

Claudia realized she was thinking fondly of Greg again. She had to get him out of her head. She had already decided that she wouldn't get involved with him – she needed to stick to her guns. All she needed to do was figure out a way to tell him.

She steeled herself to enter the room. She looked over in Greg's direction and saw that he was asleep – good. Now that she saw all of the equipment again, she didn't doubt her decision.

"Hey, Casey." She tried to adopt a neutral tone.

"You just missed Greg. He was awake a few minutes ago." It was nice to see Casey smile.

Claudia figured that he must have seen her looking at Greg on her way in.

"Oh?"

"He actually seemed to be in a decent mood. I'd be a total jerk if I woke up trapped in that thing."

"Yeah, you would."

"Hey!"

"You're the one that said it."


	29. Chapter 29

A few hours later, the gastroenterologist came by to see Casey.

The surgeon carefully pulled the dressing away and examined Casey's abdomen.

For some reason, Casey had been expecting a bigger incision. This was a pleasant surprise.

"This looks good. There isn't any inflammation or discoloration."

The surgeon listened to Casey's abdomen.

"Don't hear anything down here."

"Is that bad?"

"That's normal. It just means you can't eat yet."

"Now what?"

"A nurse is going to come in and redress your abdomen and take out your catheter. We'll get you out of bed and standing up. You are not to get up by yourself!

Only get up with a nurse next to you. Is that understood?"

"Yes – as long as they remove the catheter."

With a nod, the gastroenterologist left.

House was awake in time to hear the gastroenterologist talking to Casey. Apparently Casey was doing well. It would be nice to be young. I would be horrible to deal with cancer at his age, but House sure wished he could heal as fast as young guys. He still felt like total and complete crap that had just been stepped on by an angry rhinoceros.

A few minutes later a nurse came in to redress Casey's abdomen and remove the catheter.

"Halleluiah! It's good to get that thing out."

House couldn't help but chuckle at that.

The nurse scowled at House.

"We're going to get you standing up. First, I want you to ease your legs over the side of the bed. My assistant will take care of your IV and nasogastric tube."

Casey felt really stiff, but he did manage to get his legs over the side of the bed. His abdomen felt a little tender, but he was on a dose of IV morphine, so it wasn't too bad. He felt a little dizzy, but he didn't say anything because he wanted to get out of bed. If he told the nurse, she might make him stop and stay in bed.

"Go slow."

Casey looked over and saw Claudia eagerly looking on.

Now that he was sitting up, House had a good view of Casey. He could tell Casey was definitely dizzy, but trying to suck it up.

Casey tried to stand up, but ended up grunting and sitting back on the bed with his hand against his abdomen.

House couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Casey, hold a pillow lightly against your abdomen and it will help with the pulling sensation."

Casey had never tried that after his previous surgery, but he didn't have the feeling as bad then. How did House know he had grunted from the pulling sensation in specific?

Claudia piped up to the nurse, "Will that help?"

"It won't make anything worse."

Casey grabbed a pillow and tried getting up again.

"Man, that helps." Casey almost grinned at House.

"Yeah, it does." House was contemplative. He really wished he was getting out of bed today.

"Can I go to the bathroom and pee for real?" Casey sounded almost giddy.

"You can try." The nurse didn't sound optimistic.

Casey slowly made his way into the restroom with the nurse at his side. He only went a few drops, but it felt awesome.

"Okay, let's get you back in bed."

Once Casey was safely back in bed, the nurse checked House's vitals and left.

The short walk had exhausted Casey and he started to drift off to sleep.

Now that Casey was asleep, Claudia knew she should talk to Greg.

He was still awake. She stood up and walked over to him.

"Can I sit down?"

"You don't have to ask." House gave her a soft smile.

She turned the chair so that he could see her from his leaned back position. She knew he couldn't shift to look at her.

She tried to avoid staring at his brace or his leg. Up close, the brace looked even bigger. She could only guess that he was probably incredibly uncomfortable.

Claudia grabbed his hand before she could stop herself. "Hey." She gave him a slight smile.

"Hey." House responded with a small smile as well.

Once she stared at his face, she wasn't sure what to say.

"Sorry I haven't talked to you since you woke up."

"You've been busy with your brother. I understand."

Bingo, perfect excuse.

"I've just been so worried about him." This was true, but Claudia put some extra emotion in it. She almost managed to squeeze a tear out.

Greg was stroking her hand in a comforting way. It was actually nice to have someone comfort her.

"What did Wilson say about the cancer?"

"They got it all."

House gave her hand an extra squeeze and smiled, "That's great. That's something to feel good about."

He was right and she did feel good about it. Now what should she say? "He still recommended a round of chemo. I worry so much about complications." She knew complications were unlikely.

"At Casey's age, risk of fatal complications is minimal. The side effects are crappy, but they are rarely fatal in a young adult."

Greg's presentation of the facts was extremely comforting. Claudia hadn't been meeting his eyes, but she looked up.

He was focused on her with an intensity that almost knocked her back. Woah. He was so focused on her even though she could see the wrinkles around his eyes and the slight grimacing that meant he must be hurting. Okay, now what?

"Are you okay?" It just flew out. Great, her plan to not show concern was already unsuccessful.

"Yeah, I just need to call a nurse. You going to be okay?"

Was he seriously asking her if she was okay when he was the one in a hospital bed looking sicker by the moment?

"Sure. I was just feeling a little emotional." (and making a total unsuccessful attempt to somehow tell you that I was leading you on the other night and I'm actually going to avoid a relationship with you)

House pushed the call button and a nurse soon arrived.

"The numbness is wearing off and I'm hurting pretty bad."

Claudia found that she wanted to hold his hand and comfort him and she couldn't pull away. He was starting to squeeze her hand now. She noticed the sweat forming on his face. She grabbed a towel from his night table and dabbed his face off. The pain had probably been building for a while.

"Okay. I'm supposed to page Dr. Wilson and Dr. Mathis when your pain returns. They'll be here shortly."

The nurse left – hopefully she was putting in an urgent page because his pain was getting urgent.

Claudia realized she was getting involved again. She had to get away. Doctor coming - perfect opportunity.

She gently eased her hand away. "I'm going to get out of the doctor's way."

He seemed to believe her explanation as he sent her a nod and a pained smile.

Instinctively she wanted to hold his hand and support him until a doctor specifically told her to leave. Even then, she might be stubborn enough to stay anyway.

She had to deny her natural tendencies and get away from him.

She moved over and sat next to Casey, who had just woken up. She couldn't leave the room because she had to know that Greg would be okay.

Mathis came in, "Hello, Dr. House. Is your pain returning?"

"Yeah."

Wilson came in and stood next to Mathis.

"You may have noticed when you woke up from surgery that you were numb. We injected a long acting local anesthetic when we closed. It was a pretty high dose.

We are going to inject a slightly lower dose for the next couple of days until you are past the worst of the post op pain. Do you have the injections, Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes."

"We're going to start with an injection in your thigh near the break in your femur. This will also give me an opportunity to check your incisions. This shouldn't hurt as bad as when I opened the brace you had before your second surgery."

Mathis carefully undid the fasteners on the opening over House's right thigh.

"You ready?" Mathis double-checked with House.

"Yeah." House expected a change in pressure and intense pain like opening the other brace had caused. Since Mathis only opened a small portion of the brace, there wasn't as much change of pressure and it didn't cause a horrible pain spike. This was definitely an improvement.

Mathis removed some padding and then carefully peeled the gauze away from his thigh. House hadn't seen it yet, but he got his first look at his thigh since his surgery on the femur and the artery.

"Yuck. That looks disgusting." House voiced his immediate reaction.

Normally he kept his thoughts to himself, but his barriers were down. His thigh always looked gross, but this was positively repulsive. The maze of stitches across his leg almost turned his stomach. He was used to gross stuff, but this was his own body.

"This actually looks quite a bit better. There isn't near as much drainage or inflammation." Mathis seemed please. House hated to think what his thigh must have looked like before.

"Oh good. That's just fabulous." House's sarcasm was on full bore.

Mathis was carefully cleaning the area with an antiseptic.

"House, see this mark right here?"

"Yes. You're pointing at it – I'm not blind!"

"This is a mark I made to provide a guide for sticking in the needle with the local anesthetic."

"Well, go ahead and inject it!"

Mathis carefully guided the needle in. House could feel the pressure as she injected the liquid.

"Give that a minute to kick in. Once the antiseptic is dry, we'll redress and pad your thigh so that we can close the brace."

"I'm going to open the brace higher up. I've also made a mark for injecting the anesthetic into an area to numb the hip area. Be extremely still."

"It's not like I can move anyway." House was getting very annoyed. His thigh was already feeling better and he wanted the damn injection in his hip!

"Wilson, hold this pillow against his hip to give him some support. He will lose some protection when I unfasten this. There is still a lot of protection around his thigh, but this opening isn't as ideal."

Wilson did as instructed.

The pain got worse at this point, but he was still making it.

After working for a minute, Mathis spoke again. "These sutures look good –they aren't inflamed like the sutures in your thigh have been."

"Maybe it's because I don't have a bunch of scar tissue around my hip."

"I'm about to guide the needle in."

House could feel the needle go in and then the medication.

"Okay. I'll close your brace up now."

Wilson and Mathis set to work closing the brace around his hip. They put gauze and padding on his thigh and closed the brace there, too.

"Feel better now?" Wilson asked.

The relief was fabulous. "Yeah." He wasn't near as numb as he was right after surgery, but this was extremely manageable and he actually felt comfortable.

"This isn't an ideal pain treatment, but it is a temporary solution since you are avoiding narcotics."

House didn't particularly care what Mathis and Wilson had to say at this point because he wasn't hurting much and wanted to enjoy it for a while.

"Here in an hour or so, we're going to turn you."

That was a surprise. "Huh? I thought this was kind of a one position thing." That figures - now that he's comfortable.

"We'll turn you onto your left hip. It'll be a bit of a job, but it's important that you move some. Normally, it would be ideal to get a patient up and out of bed the

day after surgery. It helps with blood flow, lung function, you're a doctor – you know all of this. Since we can't get you up or standing, this is the next best thing."

(NOTE: House may seem a bit out of character, but if he was falling in love, he would probably behave differently toward that person - and I just felt like writing it that way. It is fiction after all.)

Thanks for reading - any reviews are appreciated!


	30. Chapter 30

(Just to let you know, House isn't going to be confined like this for the whole story. It is temporary.)

Sure enough, less than an hour later Mathis came trooping in with Wilson, Foreman, and 5 others - probably nurses or nurse's aides. One of them was rolling a cart with more foam blocks and pillows, including two huge rectangular blocks. He gathered they were here to turn him, but why the audience? How hard could this be?

He could still use his arms.

"Did you rob geriatrics and lead a conquest to kidnap staff from other parts of the building?"

"We're going to turn you. I am here the first time to supervise and make sure that everyone knows what to do so that we don't hurt you. This is the team that will be turning you during the day. Dr. Wilson, Dr. Chase, and Dr. Foreman are here to observe so that they will also understands how to move you. I need to make sure there is always someone on hand who knows the process just in case you need to be moved or turned.

I want to do it now while you are as numb as possible since this may be somewhat uncomfortable."

"That translates to very uncomfortable and painful. I'm finally feeling comfortable now. Can we hold off on this whole production?" House tried to look pleading, but it obviously wasn't effective.

Mathis didn't hesitate or consider, "No. Here's how this works -" She was obviously saying this for the staff as well, but mainly to House. He vaguely remembered stuff like this from studying orthopedics in med school, but he always just let nurses deal with this sort of thing.

"For starters, Dr. House, you need to keep your arms folded over your chest so that they will be out of the way-"

He interrupted, "My arms are fine. Just tell me what to do and..."

"Dr. House, you are too weak right now. Eventually you can help, but for now your arms would be in the way and if you tire out we might end up dropping you.

Understood?" Dr. Mathis was like a strict Momma!

House didn't comment - he definitely was not a happy camper. He figured they could just guide his lower body and he'd turn on his side. It seemed like a simple concept.

Mathis took his silence as agreement and proceeded.

"You can help by holding your IV line still.

As you can see, you are lying to the left side of the bed and your right leg is stretched out over the remainder of the bed. The first order of business is to move your actual body towards the right side of the bed. The rails on both sides of the bed will need to come down and the head of the bed will be lowered completely flat.

I need one person here at your right leg. She will keep one hand under your ankle and calf area and the other under your thigh area. The brace will hold you in place and keep you from shifting. Her job will be to guide your right leg and make sure there isn't any pressure on it. She will not actually be lifting from that leg - she is more like a safety net. She will also support the leg while all of the pillows are removed.

One person will be to your right with a hand under your lower back and your shoulders.

Two people will be on your left - one will be supporting the middle of your back and your left shoulder and the other will have a hand under your left knee and at your left hip. He will also ensure that there isn't pressure on your right hip.

These three people will actually do the lifting while the first guides your leg.

The fifth person will move pillows and keep an eye on all the leads and your IV line. As we move you to the right side of the bed, there won't be room for your right leg to be over the bed. It will extend over in the air, but she will continue to hold it. You will be lifted straight up and moved over. They will not slide you or push on you. Once they set you down on the right side of the bed, all that's left is to turn you.

Understand?"

House was trying to process what she expected him to let these people do. Oh. Was she waiting for a response? "Yeah."

"She will continue to hold her post at your right leg.

There will be someone on your left holding you in place at the shoulder and left hip to make sure you don't slide.

The person at your right shoulder and lower back will actually turn you

You will need to bend your left knee to help support your weight and balance you on your left side. Once you are balanced on your left hip, left shoulder, and your bent left leg, everyone will stay in place while the two remaining people arrange the pillows and foam blocks around you.

One of the large rectangular prism-shaped blocks will go at your back and the other will go against you abdomen and chest. These will hold you on your side and should help you feel more secure.

Many people like to drape their right arm over the foam block at their chest.

Once these two blocks are in place and your leg is supported the two people on either side of you will step away and put the rectangular blocks as close to you as possible to 'sandwich you.'

She will continue to remain at your leg.

At this time you will need to let them know what parts of you feel uncomfortable or unstable so that they can adjust the pillows. Once everything feels okay to you, she will step away from your leg and make sure it is supported without any pressure on your right leg or hip. They will make sure that the pillows and foam conform to the shape of your brace.

Your left hip may feel tender. Even though we didn't operate there, we did a substantial amount of work on your right pelvis which will also leave your left pelvis sore. You can let the rectangular foam blocks take some of your weight. Don't worry. This sounds a lot more complicated than it actually is."

Dr. Mathis gave him a smile as they tilted the head of the bed back and lowered the rails. Everyone assumed their positions.

"Right now we are just going to move the pillows out of the way and lift you to the right side of the bed."

Once the pillows were gone, Dr. Mathis spoke to House, "You ready?"

House was not willing to admit that he was terrified. He didn't like the idea of these people having total control of his body. Did it seriously take five people to do this? That sounded like too many cooks in the kitchen. All the people clustered around him made him feel incredibly embarrassed. He felt so helpless. He figured they should get the show on the road.

He crossed his arms over his chest as Mathis instructed and gave them consent.

As soon as they had him a few inches off the bed, House panicked.

"WAIT! STOP! PUT ME DOWN! NOW!" He was about as loud as he'd ever been in his life.

They slowly lowered him. They were remarkably controlled. If a patient reacted to him like that, he would probably drop them like a hot potato. These people were very professional.

His heart was racing and he was breathing very hard.

Dr. Mathis looked at him, "What is it?"

House really had no idea what to say. Why had he stopped them?

"This doesn't feel right."

"Can you be a little more descriptive?" Dr. Mathis was looking at his heart monitor and appeared very concerned.

How could he explain this?

"It's very common to feel nervous. Are you feeling nervous or agitated?" Mathis was so calm and matter-of-fact and it drove House nuts! If one of his patients responded by yelling like that during a procedure, he'd continue anyway.

Might as well tell the truth. He gulped and answered, "Yeah."

"Okay. Take some deep breaths. Nobody is going to drop you."

She just stood and let House breathe a minute. Good gosh! Foreman were here for this spectacle. At least he missed House's frantic 4 am performance of trying to rip the brace off.

"Are you ready to try again?"

Seriously? How about everyone go away now and just leave him safely positioned on his back.

The guy at his right shoulder met his eyes and spoke softly, "We won't let you fall, Dr. House." He gave House a small smile.

Being nice to patients was actually a bit reassuring. He found himself giving them permission to try again, "Okay."

Before he even had time to realize he had assented, he was being gently set on the other side of the bed and the people were shuffling around and repositioning to actually turn him.

"You're halfway there, Dr. House. Are you okay?" The man at his shoulder was speaking again.

He felt out of breath even though they did all the work.

"I'm good. Go ahead."

The explanation took far longer than the actual moving. He wasn't jostled at all - they were quick and efficient.

He was soon on his left side and they were already shifting pillows. Five people working together really was efficient. They all served a purpose. He'd never admit it, but they were good at their jobs.

He felt the rectangular blocks at his back and chest. He found himself wrapping his arms around the one at his chest.

"We're going to let go now and see if you're comfortable." The guy from earlier had kind of taken over.

Dr. Mathis was in front of his face now, "How does it feel?"

"Profoundly uncomfortable." Now that he was in place he realized that his left hip was indeed tender and he didn't feel stable. "I don't feel stable."

They started inserting more pillows around him and they brought the rectangular prism foam thing closer to his back.

They stepped back, "Do you feel more stable now?"

"Yeah. I'm just not comfortable. Can you turn me back?"

Mathis was speaking again. "Let's keep you here for 20 minutes and then we can put you on your back again. Can you try for that long?"

House hesitated. If he told them no, would they put him on his back right now? "I'll try."

"Okay." She addressed the audience, "In twenty minutes we'll reverse the process to get him on his back again. Everyone can go now. I just need the five of you back in 20 minutes. Thank you for observing, Dr. Foreman.

Foreman nodded at House and left. House didn't say anything. He let Mathis take care of the talking.

He figured he must have been zoned out because he felt Wilson lightly touch his forearm, "House?"

"What?"

"Just making sure you're okay."

Mathis was on his other side and he couldn't see her. Fortunately with the position of the beds, he was facing the door. At least he wasn't staring at the wall, but unless people were right in front of him, he couldn't see them.

"Mathis?"

She came around so that House could see her.

"How often do we have to do this?"

"For now I would like to go with once a day. We will work that up to moving you more often and leaving you on your side for longer periods of time. It will be gradual, though."

He was actually grateful for Wilson sitting next to him. His left hip was hurting and he wasn't sure he could stand this. The local anesthetic in his right hip obviously didn't extend its numbing powers that far.

"How much longer?"

Wilson glanced at his watch, "Four minutes. You gonna make it?"

"Yeah." Only four minutes - he could do that.

The five people entered and assumed the same positions.

He was on his back again and propped up with pillows before he knew it.

The movement made his right hip sore and his thigh twinge some, but he was still pretty numb. His body just felt sore, not the burning, throbbing, want to kill somebody feeling. His left hip was tender, but once his weight was off of it, the tenderness receeded greatly. He'd be okay.

"Are you comfortable?"

"As much as possible, I think." He wouldn't venture to say he was comfortable, but he was a heck of a lot more comfortable now that he was on his back again.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Dr. House."

"I'm sure you will. I'll look forward to it."

They all gave him polite nods or goodbyes. From the expressions on their faces, he wasn't sure they understood sarcasm. The guy that talked the most winked at him and gave him a smirk. At least somebody wasn't totally dense.

"Any questions?" Dr. Mathis was speaking again.

"No. Feel free to leave." His tone of voice was less than polite at this point.

She continued to mark things on his chart.

"That was code for leave as soon as possible." He was feeling downright grouchy at this point.

Dr. Mathis continued to work on his chart. It seemed impossible to ruffle her feathers. She finally clipped it back to the foot of his bed and left.

"I'm proud of you." What? Wilson was proud?

How should he even respond to that?

"Wilson, you are such a sap."

Wilson just shrugged.

"You want anything?"

"A bottle of bourbon, a greasy pizza, this brace off of me, my IPod, this IV gone, these sticky things off my chest, my piano, all of my guitars here, the energy to play them, a new motorcycle, some-"

Wilson cut him off, "Point taken. I can do the IPod, but the rest is a no-go."

With that, Wilson left.

It had been very uncomfortable to lay on his side, but he had to admit that the little bit of movement actually felt nice. It exhausted him and made him a little sore, but he had been still for so long before the surgery and since.

House was asleep before he could even think of much else.

(Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated!)


	31. Chapter 31

He awoke to his meal tray appearing in front of him. He was shaky and exhausted after the whole turning production, but he figured he should eat.

"Dr. House, you need to try to get some food down. You don't have any solids today, but you do have some chicken broth. I brought you a straw since you can't sit

up." She was already hard at work undoing the wrapping over his soup and inserting a straw.

"How very considerate of you." House's sarcasm was at an all-time high today.

He heard Casey try to stifle a chuckle from across the room.

The nurse gave him a charming smile. What was it with people these days? She thought he was sincere - honestly?

"Would you like me to hold it for you?"

He was tempted to make a dirty remark about holding something else for him, but he figured he should be halfway decent since he was totally dependent on these people right now.

"Just scoot the bedside table close and set it down."

She did as asked. "Do you need further assistance?"

"I could really use some assistance with something else."

She apparently didn't notice his lecherous grin. She was too funny!

His evil smirk didn't make it past Casey as he was barely containing his laughter. Casey had the head of his bed up and was sitting. It was nice to be able to actually see him. Claudia was looking at him disapprovingly - they apparently both knew what he was thinking, but the pretty little nurse was clueless.

"What can I do for you?"

This was too much. If House wasn't so tired, he would really have some fun shocking her.

"Just push the table closer."

"You know where the call button is." She smiled and left.

As soon as the door closed, Casey, Claudia, and House were laughing.

House didn't miss Casey's grimace as he laughed. "Hold the pillow against your abdomen again."

Casey tried it and found it helpful again.

House carefully lifted the broth with both hands and took small sips. It was nasty and he didn't want to drink it, but if he got this down and was cleared for solids, he could get Wilson to bring something decent.

At shift change, Shirley was briefed on all of the patients by the day nurses.

Anna piped up, "Dr. House was so polite today. He told me I was very considerate."

Shirley arched her eyebrow. She knew Anna was gullible and things tended to fly right over her head. She could only imagine what context this comment might have come from.

HOUSE M.D

House woke up a few hours later and noticed that Casey was also awake and sitting up halfway in bed with Claudia rubbing his forearm. From the look on his face, House knew that he was starting to feel the acid.

"Casey, are your sinuses burning?"

"Yeah, it's bad."

"Raise the head of the bed as high as you can. Breathe only through your mouth."

"Is your throat burning?"

"Bad."

House pressed his call button. Shirley, the head night nurse came in.

"Casey is starting to feel the acid coming up the tube from his stomach. The acid is causing a burning sensation in his throat. Spray topical lidocaine in the back of his throat. I feel sure the pharmacy stocks the kind used for the mouth. You can use the kind we use before procedures to numb the throat."

It wasn't standard procedure, but Shirley had to admit it was very logical.

She grabbed his chart, "Does he have a prescription for it? I don't see any notes."

"Just do it. Wilson will clear it in the morning."

"Dr. House, I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Oh my gosh! What was that prefix you used in front of my name? Guess what? I'm a doctor, too! Just go get it."

Casey was looking more pained by the minute. "The burning is getting worse!" Casey's voice was urgent.

House grabbed his phone off the night table and called Wilson. He got a groggy reply. He put it on speaker so that Shirley could also hear.

"Good morning, Wilson. Acid is starting to come up the nasogastric tube-

'House, you don't have a nasogastric tube-

"Not me. Casey Black, my roommate. He is getting a burning sensation in his nose and throat."

'Oh. That is a common reaction. House, I'm trying to sleep.'

"He should have topical lidocaine spray in his throat, but Shirley here won't listen to me."

'Shirley?'

"The nurse."

'Oh.'

"Lidocaine spray. Focus, Wilson."

'You want them to spray his throat like I used to for you?'

Claudia perked up at this. Wilson used to do that for House?

"Gee, Wilson. You're catching on."

'That's fine House, why are you calling me?'

"It's prescription. Shirley here needs permission."

'I guess I should talk to Shirley.'

"She's in the room. We're on speaker."

"Hello, Dr. Wilson."

'Hi Shirley. Sorry I was confused there for a moment.'

"Get on with it, Wilson."

'You have my permission to use the lidocaine spray on Casey Black's throat - I'll sign off in the morning. I'm going back to sleep now. Goodnight, House.'

They heard the dial tone, so House hit end.

"Happy now?"

"I'll have to get Dr. Wilson's signature in the morning, but that will work for now. I'll be back."

Shirley left the room. She would have rather just given him the spray, but she was the head of the night shift and had to set the example by going 'by the book.'

After all, he could have an allergic reaction.

Casey was sitting up straight and breathing totally through his mouth. "Will that help?"

"Yeah."

The on-site night attending entered with Shirley. House wasn't exactly best buds with Dr. Weevils.

"This needs to be administered by a physician since this is technically not its intended use." Shirley told Casey.

"HOUSE! I should have known this was your crazy scheme. We never do this. I was trying to get some paperwork done and now I-"

"Weevils, just get this show on the road! Casey, lean the bed back some. Open your mouth as wide as you can and tilt your head back. Dr. Weevils will spray four liberal squirts at the back of your throat near your tonsils."

House pretended to tell Casey, but he meant it for Weevils. Normally he would have no problem yelling and verbally pushing another doctor around, but he wanted Casey to get the medicine.

Dr. Weevils came forward and did exactly as House said with an air of knowing exactly what he was doing. "I still don't see the point of this, House. You need to learn to leave other people's patients alone and not bother other doctors when they are trying to do their damn jobs. You would think that crippled in a hospital bed with cancer eating away at your body, you could quit causing problems. You've always been an arrogant, self-important jerk and you won't stop until you're 6 feet under."

That was like a soccer punch to the gut. Had Weevils really just said, 'Crippled in a hospital bed with cancer eating away at your body?' It was true, but the way Weevils yelled it at him like an accusation hurt. Weevils probably wanted him '6 feet under.'

After a second, Casey sighed in relief. "That helped."

Casey was oblivious to the war of glares between House and Weevils and to what Weevils had just said.

Weevils scowled and stormed out handing the bottle to Shirley on the way out.

House felt like crying, but he had to hold it together. "Shirley, he'll need that again in a couple hours."

Shirley looked profoundly uncomfortable after hearing what Weevils had said. She never liked Weevils, anyway.

"Okay." Shirley responded to House and left. She resolved to come back in a little while and make sure he was okay.

"Go ahead and put the head of your bed up again. Put your finger against the side of your nose opposite the tube so that the air is blocked from your nostril. That will help you avoid the instinct to breathe through your nose. Try to go to sleep while your throat is numb. The numbness in your throat deceives your sinuses into feeling numb as well because all of that is connected."

"Thanks." Casey drifted off not long after that. Pain is exhausting - House knew that all too well.

"Thanks, Greg." Claudia gave Greg a smile. She really was grateful.

"Sure." He didn't smile, he just choked it out because he thought he might cry.

(Thanks for reading!)


	32. Chapter 32

(NOTE: You guys have been such great reviewers - I really appreciate it! I've already got a new chapter for you!)

House closed his eyes and pretended to go to sleep, but he was really just trying to keep the tears back.

He hoped the dark kept Claudia from seeing the tears that would be spilling soon. Would other doctors just see him as "crippled in a hospital bed?" Was being a doctor over for him? He knew there were doctors that didn't like him, but he didn't want to be seen like that. Medicine was his life - was it gone, now?

How long would it take for his condition to travel along the hospital grapevine?

People would come by like tourists to get a look at him in this brace.

Everyone would laugh - he figured he probably looked funny.

They would be glad he was suffering.

He needed to get Wilson to close all the blinds as soon as he got here in the morning - he didn't want anyone else in the hospital to see him. He hoped Wilson would come by really soon.

It was still dark, but he didn't think he could go back to sleep. He was exhausted, but he couldn't quit crying.

Shirley was sitting at the nurses desk thinking about what had just happened. She was watching the patient monitors and noticed that House's oxygen saturation dropped a little. He had been stable for hours now. She figured she should check. She walked up to the glass, but didn't enter. She could see why his levels dropped - he was crying. She decided to just leave him alone.

First thing in the morning she was going to tell Dr. Wilson what Weevils had said.

She knew that House was normally the type that could let things roll off his back, but he was emotionally vulnerable right now.

She also needed to make sure that Dr. Weevils would not end up treating House for any reason.

Claudia was tremendously grateful to Greg and she felt horrible for what that doctor had said to him, but she couldn't do anything about it. She thought about going over and comforting him, but she was emotionally distancing herself from him.

She hated seeing Casey suffering like that. Casey was usually a suck it up, grin and bear it guy, so she knew it was bad.

Greg must be feeling horrible as well, but he had gone out of his way to plead his case with Shirley, call Dr. Wilson, stand up to Dr. Weevils, and explain what to do.

He even tried to keep Casey calm while he wore himself out. ...she had to stop thinking like this!

She needed to get him out of her head. He was a good guy, but she would still be insane to start a relationship with him. It took 5 people to turn him over in bed for goodness sake! He would always be in pain, he would start cancer treatments...

Claudia realized her eyes were tearing up. It just figured that she would find a guy she liked and he would be sick. Not just sick, but dangerously, life-threateningly sick.

After drying her tears, she decided to lay back in the recliner and try to sleep. Once it was silent, she couldn't ignore it. She could tell Greg was crying. She couldn't believe the nerve of that Dr. Weevils guy. She wanted to find him and punch him in the face. She would actually consider punching the guy, but she knew that these people were in charge of Casey's care and they knew that she was his sister. Maybe she could black mail Weevils.

She wasn't sure if she could stay away from Greg - he was crying. It was kind of her fault because the guy was in here to help Casey.

She was the woman who could ignore crying 4 year olds in the chemotherapy suite when their parents were in the bathroom.

Why couldn't she ignore this man?

Tissues - that's it! Perfect idea. Claudia got up and walked across the room with some tissues. She would hand him some tissues and then she'd leave. It sounded like a plan.

Instead she found herself drying his eyes with a tissue and rubbing his cheek with her thumb. Why couldn't she keep her hands off of him? His muscular, well-defined shoulders were exposed now. NO! She couldn't think about that at a time like this!

He was reaching for her. He needed comfort.

She pulled the chair up as close to his left side as possible and grabbed his hand.

"It's okay." Well, really it wasn't, but she had to say something.

"No, it's not" Figures he'd see right through that.

"Just ignore him and the things he said."

"It's true."

"No, it's not."

"I am crippled and in a hospital bed with cancer."

Okay, that was true. Now what?

"It's not permanent."

"You don't know that, either."

"Hey, look at me." Claudia's tone of voice made it a command.

His eyes met hers in the dim lighting. His were red and puffy. He looked tired.

"You can't fight this with that attitude." She was stern as he met her eyes.

"I don't know if I want..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence! Of course you want to fight this!"

"I was a doctor..."

"...and you're still a doctor."

"Now I'm just some sick guy in a hospital bed - you heard Weevils."

"Why was Weevils in here?"

House looked at her like she was crazy. "Lidocaine has to be administered by a physician when it is being used for non-standard use."

"Did it help Casey?"

"Of course it did! I knew it would."

"See? YOU knew it would. Not Weevils, he wasn't smart enough to know it would help. If you weren't here, he wouldn't have any relief tonight."

House didn't say anything.

"He's getting good sleep because of you. You know how important rest is after surgery."

"Yeah." House's voice was soft and contemplative.

She noticed his body gradually loosening up. He was still sniffling a bit, but not actively crying.

"You need to get some sleep yourself!" Claudia found herself sounding like a scolding mama.

"Yes, ma'am." He gave her a real smile - it was small, but real. His smile made her insides feel all tingly and warm.

"Good." She gave him a quick kiss and walked over to Casey's bed. Wait. SHE GAVE HIM A QUICK KISS? What happened to her attempts at distancing herself?

This was definitely a setback.


	33. Chapter 33

Shirley came in that morning before the shift change to look in on Casey and House. House was asleep, but Claudia and Casey were awake. She brought the spray - she figured she would give it to Casey herself because she didn't want Dr. Weevil's in the room again with House.

"Morning Casey. Can you tell if the lidocaine has worn off?"

"I think it's starting to."

"Okay. Technically I should get Dr. Weevils to administer this, but I'm fine with doing it myself. Do you consent?"

Casey hadn't heard what Dr. Weevils said last night, but Claudia had heard it all and knew exactly why Shirley wanted to do it herself instead of calling the doctor in.

"Fine by me." Casey reclined the bed and Shirley administered it exactly the same as Weevils did last night.

Shirley marked the chart. She didn't write who administered the lidocaine. She just wrote that it was administered.

"I know that your gastroenterologist will be in this morning and I suspect Dr. Wilson will be in as well." She glanced at House, but he was still sleeping.

Shirley left the room and pulled the door shut behind her.

Casey sighed, "I don't know why this isn't common practice. It feels so much better. Did you notice on the phone last night that Dr. Wilson asked Greg if he meant what he used to do for him? It sounded like he was saying he used to spray this stuff on Greg's throat."

"Yeah. I did hear him say that. I'm not sure what he meant, but Greg seems very knowledgeable about stomach stuff."

"Sis, he is a doctor."

"True." Claudia was so glad to see Casey more comfortable this morning and Greg asleep again.

Dr. Wilson came hurrying in a few minutes later. He anxiously looked at House, but when he saw him asleep he headed over to grab Casey's chart.

"Did the spray help with the burning feeling?"

"Yeah."

"House always has weird, but effective, ideas." Wilson smiled as if he was recalling fond memories.

"I'm going to go ahead and sign off on the lidocaine."

Wilson grabbed his stethoscope and listed to Casey's abdomen. "I hear some stirrings this morning. You may get to start liquids this afternoon, but it will be up to your gastroenterologist. He'll be by later."

Dr. Wilson seemed to be wrapping things up.

Claudia hesitated, but then decided that Dr. Wilson should be aware of what happened last night.

"When Dr. Weevils came in last night, he said some things to Greg and..."

Wilson glanced at House and then responded to Claudia, "Shirley told me. That's actually why I came by so early."

Claudia was relieved that Wilson already knew and that she wasn't going to have to try to explain what he said.

"Thanks, Claudia. The gastroenterologist will be by later."

Dr. Wilson turned and Grabbed House's chart. He skimmed over everything and then sat down to wait for House to wake didn't have to wait long before he heard House's scratchy voice, "Will you shut the blinds?"

"Sure." Wilson figured this had something to do with last night's events. Wilson didn't know that Claudia had talked to House, so he had no idea how House was doing emotionally. He decided he would let House take the lead this morning.

"I want to brush my teeth for real." He had been using those cheap hospital toothbrushes with pre-applied toothpaste, but he wanted the real thing.

Not exactly what Wilson was expecting, but it seemed like a good idea.

"I already brought you some stuff from your apartment. Let me get a basin and some water."

Wilson set a small bag of toiletries on the bed next to House and went to get water and a basin.

House already had out his toothbrush and was applying toothpaste when he got back. He stuck it out toward Wilson. You could tell Wilson had helped him with this before since the routine was all worked out. With his medical history, House had been hospitalized multiple times, but he still hated it. Wilson put the basin under the toothbrush and poured water over the extended toothbrush for House.

"Brush gently since you just had a blood transfusion."

"I'm not an idiot, Wilson." House's grumpy scowl was actually a good sign to Wilson. House carefully finished brushing, spit in the basin Wilson was holding, and then rinsed his mouth out to spit again.

"Bring me some apple juice."

"Your wish is my command." Wilson's tone of voice showed his amusement.

When he got back, House was combing his hair. Desire for personal grooming was a good sign for hospital patients. It was an indication that the patient wasn't depressed - psychologists often linked personal grooming to optimism and self-confidence. Wilson wasn't so sure House was feeling optimistic self-confident, but he was glad House was alert and taking care of himself.

"Can I have the catheter out today? It's itching. I could get an infection."

House had a valid point about infection, but Wilson wondered if House was just saying that to get it removed.

"I'd better look."

"Wait, why can't you just..."

"House, you just said it itches. You could have an infection."

"Fine."

Wilson pulled back the towel. "There is some redness down here. You know that if we take it out you'll have to use a urinal or bedpan all the time?"

"No, I figured I'd teleport myself into the bathroom." House said this with smug sarcasm, which quickly shifted to shame and despair as he added, "Wilson, I realize I wouldn't even fit through the bathroom door."

"Have you had a bowel movement since the surgery?"

"No."

"Hmmm...hopefully later today. Let me go get the stuff and we can get that out."

When Wilson returned, he looked a little hesitant.

"Do you want a nurse or do you want me to..." He vaguely waved at House's privates.

"Hand over the stuff. I want to-"

"House, I don't think you can reach and see well enough since you can't bend forward." This was awkward. Wilson didn't want to point out his limitations, but House obviously couldn't do it by himself.

"Oh, I didn't think of that." Watching House's disappointment when he realized he couldn't do it himself was depressing.

"Will you just...get it over with." House looked just plain sad now.

"Yeah." Wilson made quick work and it was out. He draped a towel over the area.

"That feels good." House sighed and seemed to just enjoy the feeling.

Wilson couldn't stand it anymore.

"House, how are you feeling after what happened last night?"

"I actually slept decent. The local anesthetic injection is still keeping me numb. How often will I get that?"

"Every 24 hours for right now." House managed to distract Wilson for just a minute, but Wilson followed by cornering House, "You know that isn't what I meant."

"Wilson, please...just leave it alone"

Before Wilson could respond, House's voice got very urgent.

"Wilson, I gotta pee. Like NOW!"

"Okay." Wilson fetched the urinal.

"I only went a tiny bit."

"That's pretty normal after catheterization."

"I know that - I am a doctor."

"Drink lots of fluids and that should help."

"Again..."

"Yes, you're a doctor." Wilson cut him off with a slight laugh. House seemed okay emotionally, but House was hard to read.

"Can you get me some decent food? I drank all of my chicken broth last night."

"House, why can't you just eat the hospital food like other patients?"

"Because I can convince my buddy, Jimmy, to bring me something better."

"What are you wanting?" Wilson knew he would relent and bring House something. House could always convince him to do things.

"One of those pudding cups with chocolate, a layer of vanilla, and another layer of chocolate on top of it."

"Seriously, House? That's random. Have you been thinking about this or something?"

"I don't have a lot of other stuff to think about and I'm bored." Wilson meant it as a joke, but House answered honestly.

"You have to eat whatever they bring for breakfast, but I'll bring you something later."

"Okay. Did you bring my iPod?"

"Yeah." Wilson turned it over. "Dr. Mathis and I will be by later to inject you again and check incisions. They will also come by and turn you on your side again today. I think Mathis wants you on your side for longer today. If I can, I'll come sit with you when they do that."

House was already turning on his iPod.

"See you, House." With that, Wilson was gone.

Clean teeth made him feel a lot better. He sipped on his apple juice and searched his iPod to choose a playlist. Before he could really get into his music, breakfast arrived.

House ate most of his 3 breakfast items - some sort of grits, dry scrambled eggs, and a banana. It was thoroughly nasty.

Once he finished up, he put on his headphones and drifted off for a nap.


	34. A Large Custard Shake

Casey needed to use the restroom. He decided to be a good little patient and call the nurse.

"I need to pee."

The past couple times he got up had been much easier than the first. He was still holding the pillow against his abdomen when he walked. He really wanted to go home, but he figured they would want him eating first.

Dr. Wilson mentioned the possibility of liquids today. That would be good.

He was just settling back in bed when the gastroenterologist entered.

"Hello, Casey. How are you getting around?"

"Pretty good. My abdomen doesn't even hurt too much."

"That's good - it's probably all the morphine. We're going to dial it back a bit today. I see where you had some acid pain last night. Did the lidocaine spray help?"

The gastroenterologist looked surprised to see the note in the chart.

"Yeah it helped a lot."

"Interesting. That's not a standard procedure."

"It was Greg's idea last night."

"Greg?" The gastroenterologist seemed confused.

House was asleep on the other side of the room with his headphones on.

Casey indicated in his direction "Greg House."

The doctor looked behind him. He seemed very surprised.

"Oh dear. I heard that Doctor House fell, but I had no idea he was this hurt. Someone was letting a child run loose in a hospital ward - can you believe that?"

Claudia was surprised the other doctor hadn't noticed that the patient was Dr. House.

"I wonder why he's on the oncology ward."

Apparently it wasn't public knowledge that House had cancer. Weevils knew last night. Of course, he had probably seen charts since he was working the ward last night.

The gastroenterologist quickly answered his own question, "I bet Dr. Wilson arranged for him to be here. He has always been very protective of House."

"Anyway, I'm going to listen for bowel sounds. Just breathe normally."

He listened for a moment.

"Good, I hear soft bowel sounds. You're 48 hours post-op. This is perfect. I'm going to go ahead and have you drink some water."

He paged a nurse in to bring water.

"I'm going to turn off the suction on the nasogastric tube. We'll leave the tube in for now in case we need it. I want you to only take very small sips. Drink about a tablespoon right now and then take another small sip every twenty minutes or so. It will feel a little bit weird, but if you feel too much discomfort, page a nurse.

I'll check in with you again later to see how the water went. Any questions?"

"No." The water felt heavenly.

"Okay." The gastroenterologist was gone.

The morphine was dialed down, the nasogastric suction was turned off, and he could now sip some water. This seemed like progress.

House woke up and took his head phones off. He realized immediately what woke him up: his right leg. The bane of his existence. He couldn't massage it or shift his leg because of the brace. Of course, with the broken leg, either of those would be a bad idea anyway. He wasn't sure if the muscle or the fracture in his femur hurt more. It had to be almost time for his injection. His right hip was chiming in for the pain party. He had been so comfortable. If only this stuff didn't wear off.

House contemplated calling for a nurse, but then he would have to admit how much he was hurting to someone he didn't know.

Wilson came in. House was so glad to see him.

"When can I get a local injection?" House got the words out before Wilson could even get all the way through the door.

"Mathis is supposed to meet me here soon."

House sighed, "Do my thigh first."

"Are you hurting?"

"Of course I'm hurting!"

Wilson noticed that House's heart rate was higher than it should be. He checked his watch and put in a page to Mathis.

Mathis walked in.

Wilson quickly indicated, "Thigh first."

"Okay. Hang in there, Dr. House."

They quickly opened his brace, cleaned a spot, and drove the injection home.

House sighed with relief once it started working.

Mathis was already peeling the gauze back to check his stitches.

"Does the injection help with your thigh as well as your femur?"

"Yeah."

"These stitches look about the same as yesterday. We're going to move to your hip now."

Wilson grabbed a pillow to support House the way Dr. Mathis had shown him yesterday.

"Be very still."

House just rolled his eyes.

"You ready?"

"I've been ready."

He felt the injection go in and the numbing agent start working. The needle had to be driven in pretty deep.

"These stitches look good."

Mathis and Wilson got his brace closed up again pretty quickly.

"Have you had any nausea after eating?" Mathis was obviously in full-on doctor mode.

"Nope."

"Are you still having any trouble breathing?"

"I just feel out of breath."

"Do you feel like you still need the oxygen?"

As much as House wanted to say 'no,' he knew he would be uncomfortable without it, "Yeah, I need the oxygen."

"Good." Why was Mathis pleased?

"How is that good?"

"You're being honest with me. I had every intention of leaving you on oxygen, I just needed to see if you could be honest with me and yourself. You need to communicate with us. If you start hurting really bad before it's time for your next injection, let the nurse know. She'll call us and we can do it a bit early. You don't have to suffer. Tell someone."

Mathis met his eyes, "Understood?"

She was waiting for an answer...seriously?

"Yep."

"I see that you got your catheter out. Have you urinated?"

"Only a little bit."

"Bowel movement?"

"No."

"You have been eating, though?"

"Yes."

"Okay, hopefully we'll get something today."

Why did doctors always say "we" when referring to that kind of thing.

"I'll invite you when I can feel it coming."

She just wrote in the chart.

Mathis didn't react to anything!

"They're going to come in and turn you in a little while. I need you on your side for longer today. Once your left hip is less tender, you actually might find it comfortable. I'll see you later, Dr. House."

Dr. Mathis was thorough and professional, but absolutely no fun.

"You more comfortable now?" Wilson sat down in the chair by House's bed.

"Yeah."

"Brought you something." Wilson extended a chocolate vanilla layered pudding cup.

House grabbed the pudding cup and the spoon from Wilson's hand. It had one of those tight foil wrappers on top. House was struggling to get it open. Wilson regretted not giving him the cup already opened. He knew better than to offer to help now.

House got it open, but he looked exhausted.

After eating it, he turned the trash over to Wilson. "My moving crew will be here soon."

"I don't have any patients for a while."

The five staff from yesterday entered to turn House. They had left all the special foam pieces and pillows behind yesterday, so everything was ready to go.

"Good afternoon, Dr. House. Would you like us to talk you through the process of turning you again?"

"Why would I want you to do that?"

Apparently nobody had asked them that before because they suddenly looked awkward.

"Well, some patients like a refresher."

"Seriously? Some patients have you explain it all again?"

"Yes. Sometimes we explain it again and sometimes they just say 'no' and we go on about our business."

"It seems like a silly question. I was here for the 'HOW TO MOVE DR. HOUSE IN HIS GINORMOUS BRACE 101' session yesterday. I guess I'll say 'no' and let you go about your business."

They quickly got him shifted to the right side of the bed and then turned. The process of moving him went quick, but he still hated these people having their hands on him. He hated not having control of his body.

They got him positioned and asked him if he was okay. He just nodded. This whole process embarrassed him - it seemed demeaning.

"Okay. Dr. Mathis would like you on your side for about an hour. If you can't make it that long, tell a nurse to page us. We'll be back in an hour."

House just nodded and they all filed out.

Wilson sat down next to him so that he was facing House, "You comfortable?"

"NO, OF COURSE NOT! This is miserable. My left hip is still tender and this is very uncomfortable." House almost exploded at Wilson. It was a ridiculous question.

"Okay. Bad question. Can you stand it? Is there something I can do that would help?"

"Make them put me on my back again and just not tell Mathis?"

Wilson couldn't tell if House was joking or serious, so he didn't respond.

House had made it about 30 minutes when his gut started feeling uncomfortable. He thought it would pass, but it was getting worse.

"WILSON, page them!"

Wilson got his pager out, but he looked puzzled. He entered the code. House seemed serious.

"It's an emergency."

"What's wrong?"

"Get a nurse in here with a bedpan!"

Wilson could actually hear a gurgling sound from House's gut.

"Wilson, this is bad!"

Two nurses were at the ready with a bedpan. The team of nurses that turned him came in.

"I've got to poop right now!" House was shouting at this point.

They picked up on the urgency and got him turned in what must have been record time. The two nurses from the ward stepped in to get the bedpan under House before they even finished arranging the pillows.

He couldn't wait another minute, so he went to the bathroom in a bedpan with eight people standing by. THIS was embarrassing.

The group of nurses that turned him continued to situate the pillows and try to pretend this wasn't happening.

They weren't sure if they should stand by and ask if he was comfortable once his bowel movement was over, or just leave.

Wilson, who had moved to the side, rescued them. "You can go. I'll check that he's positioned okay once he's finished."

They looked enormously relieved as they practically ran for the door.

House was almost panting as a nurse supported him on each side. He never thought he would have to poop from a practically horizontal position.

"I think I'm empty. Can I pee while we're at it?"

"Certainly."

He really wished he could wipe himself, but his position was too awkward and he was using his arms to help support himself. The nurses used wipes to carefully clean the area. They spread a towel out under his rear.

"We're going to lower you down now."

"Okay."

Once he was clean and his wastes were documented, the nurses left.

Wilson approached again once House had his breath back.

"How's your leg? Do you need me to shift the pillows?"

"Under my right thigh. Like where my butt cheek meets the leg."

Wilson carefully inserted a pillow as House groaned.

"What's hurting?"

"It's my back. The only thing about the local anesthetics is that they don't help with other various aches and pains from being positioned like this. Put another pillow under my left thigh so I'll feel more balanced."

Wilson got that taken care of, too. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"You're back going to be okay?"

"Yeah. It's just really achy."

"You're only about 48 hours post-op, so you're actually doing pretty well."

"Easy for you to say when you're not the one hurting, pooping with an audience, and having trouble breathing."

Wilson was so quick on the draw with his stethoscope that House could actually visualize him in some sort of duel. He could use his pocket protector as a holster.

"Seriously? I should have kept my mouth shut."

Wilson called a nurse to hold House so that he could listened from his back. The nurse held him while they lowered the head of the bed flat again. He had to be careful because of the brace, but he could still listen effectively.

Wilson raised the head of the bed a tiny bit so that the nurse could release House into his reclined position. He sent the nurse on her way with a nod.

"Your lungs and chest sound okay. I'm going to make a note to get a respiratory therapist in to see you tomorrow. They can evaluate you more thoroughly and help you with some breathing exercises."

"Sounds like fun." House was sarcastic and grumpy.

"House. Just bear with this. It'll get better."

"It'll get better or I'll get used to it?"

Wilson didn't answer that question because he honestly wasn't sure

"For now I'm going to turn your oxygen up a bit so that you'll at least be more comfortable. Mathis has a physical therapist that specializes in bedfast patients scheduled to see you tomorrow. Tell him that your back is aching and they might be able to help. She also wants you turned twice tomorrow. I know it isn't comfortable, but it might help with your various aches and pains. You're getting solids on your meal tray tonight. Do you want me to bring you anything else tonight?"

"A custard milk shake from that place by my apartment. Tell them it's for House. They know I like it with heavy cream and those crunchy sprinkles on top."

"I have a 5 o'clock appointment, but then I'll run over and get one and bring it by tonight."

"Okay." Wilson could tell House would probably be asleep in a matter of minutes.

Once he was asleep Wilson left the room. He figured he might as well bring House tasty, high calorie treats since House felt like eating them right now. Chemo was on House's horizon and he might, or probably would, have trouble eating then. A custard milkshake sounded putrid by Wilson's tastes, but it would at least have some nutritional value with custard and dairy.

(NOTE: This is a scene with side information. I included it just because I felt like writing it.)

Wilson quickly found the little shop that House told him to get the milkshake from. He went up to the counter. The place was fairly deserted. An older woman with puffy hair came bouncing up to the counter.

"What can I get for you?"

"Um, I need a custard shake. It's for House. He said you would know how he likes it."

"Dr. House?

"Yes."

"Large custard shake with heavy cream and sprinkles. Sometimes he gets a large side of chopped strawberries. Do you want that?"

House didn't mention strawberries. Better safe than sorry. "Yes."

"He always gets a shake like this and sometimes some soup or a sandwich. He never gets our salads, though. They're actually very popular. You said this is for him?"

"Yes."

"He didn't come with you?"

He didn't even think they might ask why he was getting something for House. "He's not feeling well." Well, that was the understatement of the year.

"Oh! Poor dear. Tell him that I do hope he feels better."

"I will." Wilson was relieved that she finally quit chattering and went to work on chopping the strawberries and making the shake. This woman probably drove House nuts. These shakes must be damn good.

"There was this time that my son had boils and I had to keep the shop open. I couldn't take him to the doctor. While he was waiting for his food, I asked Dr. House if he could take a look at..." Oh, Wilson hated these kind of stories. The woman went on and on as she made House's shake. "Dr. House complained the whole time, but he got the supplies from his apartment and treated my son's boils while I was making his meal. He's grouchy, but he was so helpful! Even though he complained to me, he was very kind to my son. He even came by for a follow up."

Wilson hated this sort of thing. If people knew you were a doctor they always wanted you to look at some issue of theirs. Wilson was surprised House even looked at the boils. It was probably only because it was a child. He would spend too much time berating an adult for even asking him.

"He usually gets bacon and cheese soup or a sandwich, but I'm going to pack up some tomato and lentil soup. It's very healthy."

"Oh. I don't think he..."

"Tell him that Marge said he needs to eat some healthy food to build up his immune system. These are mashed sweet potatoes. I love them when I'm sick."

She was now piling up all these little styrofoam tubs of assorted things. He could tell she was definitely a mother.

"Now, here we go. Is there anything else that he needs?"

"I think that will be fine. What is the total?" He got his wallet out to pay and also to send a signal that she should shut up now.

"Oh! Don't worry about it. Tell Dr. House that he needs to take care of himself. Here, I put in a tub of soup for you, too."

"Thanks." Wilson wasn't sure what to make of all this, so he just put some money in the tip jar and took the large bag of food she handed him.

"Have a nice evening!"

"Thank you, Ma'm"

It was now 6:30, so he figured he would take the shake to House and somehow cram the rest of the food in his office fridge. Maybe House would want to eat it tomorrow.

(Thanks for reading! I hope you will review)


	35. GnRH Antagonists

The next morning there was a nurse drawing several vials of blood before breakfast even came.

"What is this for?" House really had no idea.

"Dr. Mathis ordered it."

"I said what, not who."

"I am not sure what she intends to do with it." The nurse finished up and left.

House managed to choke down another hospital breakfast. Wilson was falling down on the job!

Dr. Mathis entered the room as soon as breakfast was over. She was her usual prompt, informative self.

"We are going to start you on a GnRH antagonist called Degarelix for hormone therapy since you elected to keep your testes. The most common side effects are weight gain, headaches, nausea, fatigue, chills, and hot flashes. One advantage of this medication is that it should help with your bone pain. You might feel the pain-relieving effects within the next day or two. A recent study indicated that 90% of patients with bone pain feel some relief after Degarelix. People starting at a 6.8 on the pain scale ended up at a 1.0 on the pain scale. That's just the average. That part of the study was targeting patients currently taking narcotics for the pain. Many got off the narcotics. Since you can't take narcotics, this could be a great solution for you."

GnRH agonists were used more often in the past, so House wasn't very familiar with the antagonists. He had a huge range of medical knowledge, but cutting edge cancer treatments? Not of much interest in his practice. He just bugged Wilson if he needed to know something on that front.

The statistics for pain improvement sounded awesome.

"How often do I get it?"

"We will administer a dose today, in 15 days, and then a smaller maintenance dose 28 days from your original dose and every 28 days after that.

I am going to give it as two injections in the abdominal region. We will have to watch for injection site reactions. We specifically designated an opening in your brace to allow for these injections. We will lift that section out and administer the dose. It is recommended that there is no pressure on the injection site, so we will leave that part open temporarily. You will have an open area in the brace this is about 3 square inches."

House was secretly impressed that Mathis really had planned for everything – not that he would tell her he was impressed.

Mathis called in a couple of nurses.

"I need you flat on your back for this. Your upper body is only raised a little, but these nurses will support your lower body so that I can recline the bed the rest of the way and get your upper body flat against the bed so that there is no angle to your abdominal area."

Once he was flat, Dr. Mathis opened the brace's 3 square inch opening and cleaned his skin. She uncapped the syringe. House wasn't particularly thrilled about the length of the needle.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Mathis smoothly injected the solution and placed a cotton ball over the puncture. "Hold this."

House held the cotton ball in place while Mathis put the syringe in the sharps container and administered the second injection. He held the cotton in place over that site as well.

"I'm going to raise the head of the bed again so that the nurses can lower your legs."

"Okay." House had found that Mathis required a response to everything.

Mathis took the cotton from House.

"A little itchiness is normal, but if it is excessively itchy or you feel pain in the area, notify a nurse. If you experience any other side effects, of course, notify the nurse. I did the injection early so that I will be here all day in case you have a reaction. Questions?"

"No."

"I'll come an hour earlier than yesterday to do the local anesthetic injection. Hopefully we'll get it in before the pain spikes. If it gets bad sooner, have the nurse page me."

House's testosterone levels would lower very quickly on the Degarelix. He wondered if he would feel any different.

He hoped he would feel a decrease in pain.

House was turned onto his side both that morning and that afternoon. He managed to stay on his side for 45 minutes both times, but was miserable for every second of it.

A respiratory therapist did indeed come. She tested his breathing with a spirometer and had him do these little breathing exercises.

Getting his anesthetic injection an hour earlier really helped.

Between the blood draw, the antagonist injections, the turnings, the respiratory therapy, the anesthetic injections, his meals, and another bowel movement, House felt like had been busy all day. He was exhausted.

It seemed ridiculous to feel busy as a hospital patient!

For dinner he munched on some of the food Marge had sent from the diner next to his apartment. Wilson wanted him to eat the tomato and lentil soup because it was "healthy." He was pleasantly surprised that it was actually quite tasty.

He was now about 72 hours post-op from the 2nd surgery.

HOUSE M.D.

Casey was thrilled because the water had gone well. The next morning he graduated to sipping chicken broth and eating small bites of jello. Instead of meals, they had him eating and drinking small amounts regularly.

His gut felt kinda weird and he was still hurting, but everything seemed to be working. He was urinating okay. Now they were just pushing soft foods and waiting for a bowel movement. It might still be a couple days before everything was working, but this was progress.

HOUSE M.D.

Since House had been out, Foreman had been serving as team leader. Cuddy never officially asked him to serve as department head in House's absence, but she hadn't said otherwise.

He had to admit he was stumped on their latest case. Foreman and Chase both had their opinions. There was not proof for either diagnosis. The patient was going downhill and needed to be treated now.

"Taub, you're wrong! The patient needs radiation." Chase was about the most emphatic Foreman had ever seen him. "Foreman, tell him. He is wrong and the patient needs radiation."

"There isn't proof for either diagnosis." Foreman was tired of this.

"Let's go ask House." Taub said this as if he had the most innovative idea in the world.

"What? Are we just going to charge into his hospital room and wake him up?" Chase seemed to think this was inappropriate.

"Yes." Taub said this as if it was obvious.

"You're being inconsiderate." Chase had quieted down some.

"Of course it wouldn't be right to go in there, House is always considerate." Taub's sarcasm right now could win awards.

"Just because House would wake someone up in the hospital doesn't make it right." It was Chase again.

"Let's go." Foreman was sick of listening to both of them.

"Are we doing the radiation?" Chase seemed to jump on this.

"Not yet, we're going to go talk to House. If he doesn't feel like it, we'll leave." Foreman gathered the chart and films and left assuming Taub and Chase would follow.

Foreman charged straight past the nurse's station with Taub and Chase trailing behind.

He peeked in to make sure that Wilson wasn't in there. Nope. He indicated for the others to wait.

He knocked and slipped into the room.

House was awkwardly propped on his left side. He looked miserable.

"Hey, you up for a consult?"

"Yep." He knew House would agree.

"Can the team come in?"

"That should seem obvious..."

"Just a sec." Foreman went in the hall to call the others in.

Chase had helped in House's surgery, but hadn't seen House since. Taub hadn't seen House at all since the fall. Both were somewhat shocked with the large brace he was wearing and his awkward position on his side.

Of course Taub would open his mouth. "House, you look go-"

House interrupted, "Don't say it. I know I don't look good, you know I don't look good. Don't lie! Ditch the pleasantries and shut up. Give me my glasses off the table, hand over the file, and move over there where I can see you." House looked awful, but his attitude turned everyone away from any commentary on his health.

He was just as demanding as always.

Chase hopped to and grabbed the glasses while Taub handed over the file and Foreman sat down right in House's line of sight.

"You're still such obedient little lapdogs, aren't you?" This was House's version of thanks.

House could use his right arm effectively, but his left was kind of pinned with the way he was turned. He looked at the file awkwardly using just one arm, but they all knew better than to offer to turn the pages.

"So I assume Chase and Taub want me to decide who's right and Foreman just wants me to make a decision so that the others will shut up?"

Their body language obviously spoke volumes.

"Let me guess, Chase wants radiation."

It actually wasn't a question, but Foreman answered, "Yep."

They were apparently very predictable. How'd he know who would want radiation?

House knew their tendencies. He made it his business to know everything about his employees including their thought processes.

"Chase is wrong - he'd be frying her immune system, making it very difficult to fight this infection."

"But it's not an infect-" Taub was quick to assume he was right now.

"It is."

"Her white counts..."

The debate continued as House remained smug and finally guided them to the correct diagnosis.

"Taub, go forth - treat! Chase, bring me Cheetos. Foreman, well, I don't care what you do."

The three filed out. They had obviously been dismissed.

HOUSE M.D.

House felt wonderful after the consult. It was great to be right - and know it. That also killed a substantial amount of time and the nurses should be coming any minute to turn him to his back. Then he'd be much more comfortable.

He thought he might feel a difference it his pain levels - maybe the antagonist would help. It was hard to say yet, but he was feeling hopeful. It might be a good thing that he kept his testes. He wouldn't be doing the antagonist if his testes were gone.

HOUSE M.D.

The three men filed out in silence and remained silent until they left the oncology ward.

"House looks like crap." Taub was quick to voice his opinion. To think he was about to tell House that he looked good. Well, everybody lies.

"He's sick. What did you expect?" Foreman chimed in.

"I don't know. I just didn't expect him to be all pale, immobilized, and uncomfortable looking." Taub seemed shocked with House's appearance.

"For just having surgery, recovering from blood loss and transfusions, managing acute and chronic pain, and coping with immobilization, I thought he looked pretty decent." Foreman wasn't typically Mr. Positivity, but he was honest.

"You didn't expect him to be immobilized? He has broken bones." Chase stated the obvious.

"Well, I don't know what I expected..." Taub seemed embarrassed now.

"Think before you open your trap and go treat the patient." Foreman decided to steer the topic away from House.

"I've got to go buy Cheetos." Chase sighed and headed toward the vending machines.

(NOTE: The statistics and info on Degarelix came from a medical publication and press release about GnRH Antagonists. I didn't make it up! Reviews are greatly appreciated and inspire me to write more, thus giving you more posts to read! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing – I appreciate you all!)


	36. The Reaction is Good

(Thank you for reading and reviewing!)

Over the next week, Claudia had a few conversations with Greg, but nothing emotionally involved.

It seemed that Casey and Greg talked more and more every day. Their topics ranged the full gamut of music, science, literature, stupid people, sports, pet peeves, and beyond. They had many similarities and common interests.

Dr. Wilson had decided to allow Casey to go home and do chemotherapy on an outpatient basis as long as he continued to eat frequent small amounts and was able to stay hydrated.

They knew he may lose his appetite during chemo, but they needed to keep him hydrated especially considering his recently modified digestive tract. Excess vomiting would also be a cause for hospitalization.

It would still be a while before chemo. Once his stitches were removed and his health held consistently, he would start chemo.

Since there wasn't actually evidence of cancer, there was no urgent rush to start chemo. It was more of a follow-through treatment.

Claudia, Casey, and his doctors were thrilled with his progress, eating, and general mobility.

Greg had a lot more color and was looking better, but he didn't progress nearly as fast as Casey.

The gastroenterologist had told them that Casey's was one of the fastest recoveries he'd seen. Some of it was probably due to his youth.

The nasogastric tube was long gone and Casey was walking the ward daily. He had even been outside a few times.

Claudia noticed Greg's look of sadness every time Casey went walking, but he was stoic and concealed everything well.

Greg had seemed emotionally stable and Claudia hadn't witness any more panicked outbursts.

Once Casey was asleep Claudia and Greg would sit up and talk – often for hours. Well, Claudia would sit up and Greg would be in his awkwardly reclined position. Mathis actually let him sit up at a little bit more of an angle than before. They just took some of the pillows out from underneath his legs. It felt nice.

Greg was well versed on an infinite number of topics and was actually an excellent conversationalist with Claudia.

She never saw him carry out an extended conversation with anyone other than her, Wilson, and Casey.

He always managed to make her laugh. He didn't have a traditional sense of humor. Claudia liked his oddly quirky ideas.

When they talked late at night or in the wee hours of the morning she never even thought about the fact that he was sick. She was immune to the IVs and didn't even think about his brace anymore.

Greg's employees came by for consults many times over the course of the week. Claudia loved to listen to him talk about medical "stuff." Much of it sounded like "gibberish" to her, but the power and energy in his voice was fascinating and stimulating to listen to. It was even interesting to hear him come up with various insults for his "team." He could be so creative. Sometimes he seemed mean, but Claudia loved his sense of humor anyway.

Even though she enjoyed his company, she still told herself that she would not become emotionally attached and she certainly would not become romantically involved. Both of these were difficult goals, but she felt like she was doing well.

House and Casey exchanged email addresses to keep in touch.

Casey was finally approved to go home. Claudia got him all packed up and ready to go. Her and Greg's goodbyes were a nice, quick cut-off.

She wasn't sure if she would ever see him again.

HOUSE M.D.

Greg was a bit disappointed to see Casey go home taking Claudia with him.

He was starting to do better. He wasn't on oxygen anymore and now saw the physical and respiratory therapists every other day on an alternating schedule.

He was turned on his side twice a day and his left hip wasn't near as tender anymore. It was still uncomfortable to lie on his side, but he was dealing with it.

Perhaps the best part was that the GnRH antagonist hormone therapy REALlY helped with his bone pain.

Between the effects of the antagonist and non-narcotic pain relievers, his pain was actually manageable.

There were a couple of nights when he needed a low-dose anesthetic injection in his hip or thigh, but he was okay for most of the week. He wasn't pain-free and probably never would be in his life, but it was definitely tolerable.

HOUSE M.D.

After Claudia left, Wilson and Mathis came in smiling. Great.

"Good news, House." Wilson looked thrilled about something.

"Do tell." House was sarcastic this morning - he couldn't imagine what could be so wonderful.

"You're cancer counts are already responding to the hormone therapy! Your prostate specific antigen levels are down. This isn't a cure by any means, but this is excellent news!

Wilson looked like he was in danger of exploding.

House wasn't sure how to react. He certainly wasn't well by any means and his cancer was definitely still here, but this was improvement.

"That's good." House's reply was weak. He was experiencing more emotions than he could possibly process.

He desperately wanted to get well – he felt strongly attracted to Claudia and wanted a shot at a relationship with her. If he could get himself healthy and work really hard at it, he felt like he could make her happy. Just thinking about her smile made his belly feel warm…

…and Wilson was looking at him like he was crazy.

"House, did you hear me?" Wilson looked concerned.

"What?"

"I said that with this much and this quick a reaction to the first injections, the hormone therapy alone could make a substantial difference for you."

"Oh, yeah."

"You still need chemotherapy and most likely radiation." Mathis chimed in.

"Is the chemo next?"

"Yes, Dr. House. Provided you don't have any respiratory problems, your pain stays under control, and you show no sign of infection, we may be able to start as soon as couple days from now."

"Are you sure that's not too soon. He still has the stitches in from surgery and is at risk for infection there in addition to-" Wilson was already questioning Mathis.

"There hasn't been any puss or blood from his thigh for days now. His hip and pelvic incisions have looked good and shown no sign of infection all along. There really was never a true infection in the thigh area anyway. That was just some normal oozing – particularly because of the stiches though his scar tissue. We'll continue to monitor it, but I am not concerned about that as a factor in starting chemo." Mathis was confident.

"Just a couple days ago he needed oxygen." Wilson already had another point ready.

"His saturation has been stable and the respiratory therapist and I are both confident that those problems stemmed from the combined effect of anesthesia and the panic episodes. If we encounter problems during chemo, there is no reason we can't put him back on oxygen. Since he is inpatient, we can closely monitor everything and deal with any crises as soon as they occur. Before you ask, I am not concerned about weakness from blood transfusions either. He isn't in perfect shape by any means, but he is doing worlds better than he was even a few days ago. His eating has been pretty good all along. His urination and bowel movements are fine. He hasn't needed anesthetic injections for a couple of days and is doing great with the time spent on his side. The Degarelix has been a big help with the pain. He is weak, but that is a default condition he will need to get used to for a while given his situation. The physical therapist is pleased with his efforts as well."

Mathis was great at predicting Wilson's concerns.

House normally hated physical therapy and took little stock in it, but he wanted to give everything a shot because he HAD to get better.

Also, Claudia was often in the room during his PT. He wanted her to see how well he was doing – whether he was doing well or not.

He wasn't sure how she felt about his current condition, but he wanted to show improvement for her sake. He really wanted and perhaps even needed her to stick around. He knew she wouldn't be around much now that Casey was out. He sincerely hoped she would come see him once Casey was doing better and was more independent, though.

He wasn't sure he could think of a time where he felt like he truly _**wanted**__**and needed**_ someone.

He was sure that she was still interested – she wouldn't have spent so much time talking and laughing with him if she wasn't interested. Right?

The little touches and kisses here and there – she had to be interested still. He knew he was pretty good at reading people.

Many people didn't appreciate his peculiar brand of humor, but she seemed to always get him.

Wilson was his best friend and he would never admit how much Wilson meant to him, but even Wilson didn't truly GET him a lot of the time.

His parents certainly never really got him.

Cuddy got him fairly often.

Stacey got him VERY OFTEN, but they just wouldn't have ever worked out together. He could never be what she needed or wanted. He loved her, but he didn't feel such as strong attachment. He didn't feel the need to stay healthy for her or anything like that. Claudia made him want to be better – just by being there.

He had wanted women over the years, but needed them? Not definitely.

"In a perfect world we would wait around and give him more time to recover from surgery, but we know this cancer is aggressive. We don't have any time to waste. If he's going to beat this we need to hit it hard full bore."

House had zoned out a bit, but Mathis had apparently just summarized all her ideas.

"His response to the antagonist could definitely buy time for him to get stronger." Wilson still was not convinced.

"His response to the antagonist also makes this an excellent time to hit him with another treatment. Considering Dr. House is in the room, why don't we consult with him, Dr. Wilson?" Mathis was hilarious at times. It wasn't sarcastic or anything – she was totally matter-of-fact.

"Dr. House?"

"I think I need to start chemotherapy as soon as possible. I don't want to waste any more time or give this cancer more time to grow."

"Well put, Dr. House." Mathis was now ignoring Wilson!

"Dr. House, if you agree to it, I think we could probably get you started on treatments in a couple days as long as you stay consistent in the areas mentioned above. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a plan." House felt better knowing there was a plan and a timetable here.

"If you think of any questions or concerns, feel free to have a nurse page me." Mathis was on her way out the door.

…and Wilson was not following.

Great. Here it comes!

"House, I don't want you to take on more than you can handle. If you are totally knocked out or get an infection after one round of chemo because you're not strong enough, that will have serious ramifications on further treatments."

"Wilson, I'm familiar with the risks VS benefits concept. I understand cause and effect. My body, my decisions."

He felt like dismissing this whole conversation and taking a nap.

"House. Are you sure that you are feeling strong?"

That was more than House could handle – he was ready to blow.

"Of course I'm NOT FEELING STRONG! I'm in a freakin' hospital bed! Of course I'm sore. Of course I'm weak. Of course I'm tired. If I felt perfect I wouldn't be here, you idiot! I'm not wasting any of MY time because I have every intention of beating this! If you don't like it, you can just, just, just…whatever!"

If House could emphatically turn over in bed and ignore Wilson, he would. Unfortunately, he would just settle for closing his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, and ignoring Wilson.

Well, even the crossing his arms over his chest wasn't overly effective since he got tangled in his IV and winced when he unintentionally banging them against his brace.

It's the concept that counted, right? Actually, he probably looked pitiful. That was beside the point, though.

"House." Wilson was quieter now. "Look at your heart rate."

Wilson saw the nurse hovering in the hall probably trying to decide if she should come in and check on him.

House didn't need to look to know his heart rate was all over the map. Wilson was ticking him off! He was concentrating on breathing slowly to get himself calmed down.

Wilson had thought House was gaining emotional stability, but perhaps not. He had been fairly calm – until he just snapped!

Wilson knew the antagonist and rapid decrease in testosterone could affect emotions and moods. House had never been particularly even keeled, but this was like House on speed on a rollercoaster going at the speed of light.

Time to back off.

"House, try to get some sleep. I'll see you later."

Cuddy had been standing in the hall through all of this. She was terrified for House, but for some reason she had been avoiding him ever since he was hospitalized. She hadn't even visited him.

She felt ashamed of herself. They certainly weren't romantically involved, but they had always had this weird…friendship, sparring "thing."

Wilson left without even noticing her and headed off down the hall.

Cuddy approached the glass and knocked lightly.

"What?" House yelled without even looking at the door.

"It's me."

"Yes, I consulted with my team. No, I don't think I'm ready to work full time right now."

He didn't even open his eyes.

"I don't care about that. Consult all you want – or don't. Your choice."

"Huh. You never gave me that option when I napped in the coma ward. Is this some sort of illness discrimination?"

"House!"

Cuddy gave him a light swat on his shoulder and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"I've kinda missed your boobs. Do you think you could lean over a bit?"

"No."

"Patty and Selma look a bit confined. They might need some air."

Cuddy pretended to contemplate this and looked down her own top.

"I think they're good."

House sighed and assumed a serious expression.

"Talk to Wilson for me – or slip him a sedative. I don't care which. Or even just keep him out of my room for a while. Any of the above would work."

"Hmmm. I think I'll try the talking first. If that's a no go, I'll get out the tranq darts and see how that works out."

"Thanks." House knew she would talk to Wilson, but her response made him snort out a laugh.

"See you later, House."

(NOTE: There will be no Huddy romance – maybe a little friendship. Most of the friendship stuff will be between House and Wilson and some between House and Casey. Cuddy just might crop up periodically.)


	37. Free Falling

(NOTE: Some of you may hate me after this chapter, but it honestly wasn't part of my plans. It just happened. I'm still exploring House's feelings of confinement and helplessness. I've been reading an orthopedic nursing book as I write this thing, so hopefully it is fairly accurate!)

He had good news about the hormone therapy today, but he still felt glum.

In the back of his mind, he knew why. He just didn't want to acknowledge it - he missed Casey and Claudia. He was bored and actually felt...socially isolated.

He never thought of himself as a social person, so this was just weird.

This was the first night in a while that he didn't have Claudia to talk to at night.

He couldn't sleep, as usual. He had nothing, or more specifically - nobody, to distract him.

He eventually went to sleep, but he didn't feel like he had slept at all.

His body seemed more tired now than it was closer to the surgery!

He woke up the next morning with nobody across the room from him. This was a first during his hospital stay.

Later in the morning, his troop of nurses came in to turn him as usual. Sometimes it would be a different combination of nurses, but all of them were efficient and careful not to hurt him.

Richard, who seemed to be their lead nurse started out, "Are you in a lot of pain today?"

"About the same."

"I talked to Mathis and got her approval. Do you want to try helping us move you this morning?"

That sounded awesome to House. He felt like he had no control of his body and being able to move himself some would bring some of that control back.

Of course, they said "try."

What if he tried to help and couldn't? Would these people think he was a weak loser?

He never thought he cared what other people thought of him, but he was discovering over the course of his illness that he actually did care. He still made Wilson keep the blinds closed every day. He tried to look as strong as possible when his team came in for consults. He wished they would always come when he was on his back, but people didn't always get sick when it was most convenient.

He was particularly uncomfortable and embarrassed when they came in while he was lying on his side. He felt even more awkward than usual and often had trouble seeing them because they would forget that they had to be right in front of him. They always positioned themselves well when he was leaned back, but on his side they tended to forget and he would find himself only able to hear them or see just certain body parts. Foreman always remembered and would usually scoot a chair up to the bed and sit so that he was easy to see. House had always hated it when people talked to him and he didn't know exactly what they were doing or where they were.

At least nurses seemed to be trained to be particularly conscious of that sort of thing.

He would never admit it, but his respect for nurses was growing.

OH! He suddenly realized there were five nurses standing in front of him waiting for a response.

"Yeah." Might as well try it.

Richard nodded and proceeded with instructions.

"We'll still have someone at your right leg and hip, but we will only have one person on each side of you. There will only be three people clustered around you this time. Depending on how this goes, we might work down to only two people.

"Gee, I feel more independent already." It sounded like he would still be moved around like some sort of 'thing.'

Richard was talking again, "I'll be on your right side supporting the middle of your back and he'll be on your left with one hand under your left knee and the other at your left hip/lower back area. You will move your upper body. Bend your elbows and put your hands flat on the bed on either side of your upper torso about where the brace ends."

House placed his arms where Richard instructed.

"Plant your right hand a little further away from your body to give yourself more room to move, but plant your left hand as close to your torso as possible."

Okay, this made sense.

"Good. Your arms are right where they needed to be."

House felt like a kindergartner being congratulated for making the first bunny ear as he tied his shoes.

"Now when we tell you to 'push' you'll raise your body straight up using your arms. Leave your elbows slightly bent. We'll say 'shift' and you'll move your upper body to the right until your torso is up against where you right hand is at. Your left hand will still remain planted; there will just be some space to the left of your upper body. All of us are going to go ahead and still be standing around you. If you feel uncomfortable or like you might not be able to support yourself, just say 'help' and they'll step in to help you. We won't let you fall."

This sounded like fun. House just sighed.

One of the other nurses chimed in, "Do you understand?"

"Yes." He would normally be snarky about this, but he was way too nervous to even care what they thought.

He felt a lot better than a few days ago, but he still felt weak and wasn't sure this was such a great idea.

"Okay. We're going to move the pillows and foam out of the way. Go ahead and plant your arms."

They were still clustered around him, but they weren't all touching him. He got himself into position.

"Ready?"

House was reluctant, but still spoke, "Yeah."

"Push."

He somehow managed to get his upper body off the bed and it was irrationally exhilarating.

"Shift."

He tried to move, but his whole body seemed to be screaming at him. He suddenly felt like he was hurting worse and was out of breath. He couldn't remember what he was supposed to say to make them help him again.

What he didn't realize was that the nurses were watching his body language and after making quick eye contact one of the extra nurses already had her hands under his shoulders and they were lowering him to the bed.

Even though he was back on the bed he still felt like he was falling.

He suddenly felt claustrophobic just like when he first came out of anesthesia. He felt like his body was frozen and falling.

After House was unable to help, the nurses decided to skip this morning's session on his side. He was already tired out enough for now. Three of the nurses left and the remaining two were about to prop him up again when he became agitated.

It was like his body abruptly snapped out of whatever frozen state it was in.

He was stronger than right after the surgery and he was now seething with adrenaline.

He wasn't aware of his own body.

He had to move!

He used his left foot and leg to push up and bend his knee. Unfortunately, this gave him leverage and sent him out of balance. Three nurses were already gone and the other nurse had turned away to get pillows. The only nurse standing by was the one at his right leg. He didn't have support around him yet or pillows propping up his leg, so she was holding it for him. The anxiety and adrenaline had obviously dulled his pain receptors and he didn't even seem aware of what he was doing.

It was like some sort of delayed reaction - he now had his hands at his sides and was pushing himself to the side and squirming. He somehow managed to knock the nurse over with his braced right leg. The other nurse heard the racket and turned his way, but was still on the other side of the room. He seemed so calm once they set him down - he showed no indication of this kind of panic.

The nurse holding him was knocked over and the bedrails were still down from the plan to turn him. There was nothing there to support him.

As the other nurse saw her colleague get knocked over, she rushed back to grab House.

She was too far away.

He was already tumbling over the right side of the bed toward the hard hospital floor.


	38. Assessment

(NOTE: I think this story may be writing itself, but I do nothing to stop it...so, here's more)

Wilson and Dr. Mathis were quickly paged into the room.

House was on the floor. He had apparently rolled off the right side of the bed and had landed sort of to the right and sort of face down. When House shifted himself after the nurses had left, his leg went over the edge of his bed. The brace was fairly heavy, so it was only natural for it to drop first and House to roll after. Due to his position and flailing, his foot had been the first part to go over the edge of the bed.

The nurses didn't want to move him until they had further instruction from Mathis. His leg was still spread off to the side and his rear was up in the air because he couldn't even end up flat on his stomach because of the incline his leg was braced at. The hard brace was making his body poke up in the air at a weird angle.

He was still flailing his arms and left lower leg. His screams were starting to turn into sobs. The nurses held him as still as they could.

Mathis charged in and immediately took charge.

"Sedate him! STAT." Mathis didn't think twice. "Get him on oxygen!" Mathis had already started to assess him.

He had been injected and was stilling as Wilson came running in.

Mathis was now running her hands over the brace to check if it had held.

"Dr. Wilson, check his arms. Make sure he didn't try to break his fall."

Mathis and Wilson were both concentrating on their respective tasks as the nurse held the oxygen mask over his face.

"His arms and shoulders are fine." Wilson thought this was a blessing.

"The brace is intact, so his bones should be okay. Still, I need a portable X-Ray in here. He had to have been jarred pretty good and he's going to have substantial bruising. He'll probably be very sore."

When she got to his foot she paused, "He's got at least two broken toes - when he landed, there was nothing to protect them."

After the X-ray was through it was determined that there was no additional damage to his femur or hip.

The brace had apparently protected him.

A large portion of his right foot had been left out of the brace for comfort and it appeared his foot had taken the brunt of the fall because of the elevated position his leg was braced in and the direction he went over the edge of the bed.

Mathis figured they better check his foot out since he obviously had a couple of broken toes.

Wilson and Mathis stood in front of the light board looking at the x-rays of House's foot.

"House is going to be livid!" Wilson was already livid.

"At least it won't require surgery." Mathis was trying to reassure Wilson.

"He has 3 broken toes, a broken metatarsal, and another break further up his foot close to the ankle - right there. You're better at reading these than me - I'm an oncologist!" Wilson was so furious he could barely think straight and was viciously pointing at the x-ray.

"It's only a hairline fracture of the metatarsal, but there is another fracture up here almost at the ankle right inside where his brace ends."

"He has 6 new fractures!"

"Yes." Mathis was her calm matter-of-fact self on the outside, but she was inwardly fuming.

Wilson was outwardly fuming.

"Why would it have broken severely like this?"

"There definitely isn't a tumor here. He fell out of bed leg first and all his weight went slamming down right there on his foot. The rest of his leg was braced into a still position, so his foot took some torque as he apparently rolled from his right side to his abdomen.

"How do they let an immobilized patient go tumbling out of bed?"

"It was an accident. These things just happen. House panicked."

"What? You make it sound like it was his fault!" Wilson was outraged.

"That is not what I meant."

"Why weren't they holding him?"

"They didn't turn him, so three nurses left. Of the remaining two, one was holding him while the other got pillows. When he got agitated he started flailing and knocked her over with his leg. The other nurse couldn't get back fast enough to catch him."

Wilson was pacing and stewing. House should have been safe in the hospital!

Rationally, he knew these freak accidents happened, but this was House.

The truth was that Mathis was quite upset herself, but it did no good to show it.

His bedrail should not have been down. She had never had an incident like this involving one of her orthopedic patients.

She found out that a nurse had been gone and the nurse holding his leg had worked a double shift to cover for a friend.

She had been working almost 16 hours straight. Legally and by hospital regulations, no medical personnel should be working that long straight. Was she distracted or too tired to hold him? Did she get caught off guard? She had also never worked with House before. She wasn't hurt and thankfully House was okay other than his foot and the pain the fall would cause in the rest of his body, but this was catastrophic in Mathis's eyes.

"Dr. Wilson, I think that we should move him to the orthopedic ward instead of the oncology ward."

"He should be starting cancer treatments soon!"

"All of the nurses there are used to handling patients in various states of immobilization and patients that are skeletally fragile. Nurses in oncology deal with people who have cancer in their bones, but they rarely deal with patients who have this level of rigid immobilization. They don't work with patients that require so much specialized moving and lifting very often. I think it would be safer for him. I could have my top people right there all the time. I realize your oncology nurses have this training as well, but the experience of working with orthopedic patients every day does help. A couple of orthopedic nurses have been leaving the ward to lead the oncology nurses through moving him, but all of the nurses working with him need this level of experience. It is not possible to have that quantity of nurses leave the orthopedic ward at one time to turn him, but if he was in the orthopedic ward…"

"Okay." If it would be safer, Wilson was willing to move House.

"I want to get him casted so that we can get him moved and set up while he's still out of it." Mathis started out of the room.

"You're going to cast him? What about the brace already on him?"

"It wouldn't be adequate because it stops mid-foot. We'll cut it away from his lower leg at mid-calf and then cast him from there down. We could bandage him, but with the insert I use this would provide greater accuracy in lining up his bones."

"I don't know how he's going to react to this."

If he reacted half as bad as Wilson, it would be horrible.

"Dr. Wilson, please calm down. Why don't you take a breather and my staff and I will get him set up. You need to get it together so that you can sit with him and be there when he wakes up. He's not going to be happy about this, but if you're an angry wreck, you won't do much good as emotional support for him. He needs you right now."

With that, Mathis left Wilson in the room.

Foreman had been standing in the back of the room. He needed information as House's proxy, but didn't want to get into the heated emotions. He quietly followed Mathis out.

(NOTE: This is not an attempt to make nurses look bad. People in many workplaces try to cover for friends, work longer than they should, etc. Reviews are appreciated just like chocolate)


	39. How bad is it?

(NOTE: There is some medical stuff at the beginning, but it moves into a lot of emotional stuff, too. Claudia doesn't return this chapter, but she'll be back soon. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, alerting, or favoriting. I really appreciate your reviews and feedback. It inspires me to write more and post faster!)

Wilson got himself under control as much as possible and went in search of House's new room.

He walked in to find a nurse sitting by House. He figured Mathis wanted to be ready in case he didn't show before House woke up. He nodded at the nurse and indicated that she could go. The nurse made a note in his chart and headed out.

House had a nasal oxygen cannula again. He had the heart monitor on all along, so there was no change there.

The biggest difference was the large cast on House's lower right leg and foot. His brace extended a few inches below his right knee, but the cast met right up where the brace ended so that his entire leg was still immobilized to support the femur and hip. Now his foot and toes were immobilized as well. His toes didn't poke out like most casts - the cast actually looked larger around his toes and you could see the definition of his "knuckles" as the cast was sculpted around them.

Mathis and her techs were like artists with this kind of stuff.

Sculpted? She had used a true plaster cast. Yuck! Of course, she used plaster because it can be molded a lot more precisely to keep the small bones in his foot and toes aligned.

In House's situation, most of the modern-day issues with plaster were irrelevant. Plaster was a lot more sensitive to water than most fiberglass casts, but House wasn't going outside for a while and he wouldn't be able to take a shower. The weight - someone else would have to lift the leg for him anyway. Has to be checked regularly to ensure there aren't swelling or skin issues - House was already in the hospital. Takes about 2-3 days to dry to complete effectiveness - wouldn't be hard to keep House still. The smell - he'd just have to live with it. Uncomfortable - well, House was already uncomfortable. Wilson looked down the end of the cast around House's toes and saw some sort of special spacers in there. He knew House's "big toe" and two others were broken.

Wilson examined the chart and saw that Mathis had already changed House's dressings on both his hip and thigh. That didn't have to be done every day now. There wasn't any puss or blood seepage around any of the sutures anymore. She had sedated him a bit more so that he would be out through setting the bones in his foot and casting it.

She had also injected a dose of anesthetic into House's thigh and hip. She was probably concerned that the impact from the fall would make him sore - and it probably would.

There was also a heavy dose that had apparently been administered into his foot area.

There was heavy bruising on his right arm, shoulder, and upper torso above his brace. There were also smaller, lighter bruises on his left side and arms, probably from when he was flailing around. They were very lucky he didn't hit his head or break an arm.

House was going to be pretty sore and Wilson was willing to guess VERY grumpy.

Wilson scooted a recliner up to House's bed and sat down to wait for him to wake up. Based on his vitals and the time that had elapsed after the sedative, House would probably wake soon. He wasn't out like being under anesthesia, but he had been heavily sedated.

Wilson decided to be prepared for any reaction House might have.

The other bed was empty. He knew House would 'want' a private room, but Wilson wasn't sure it was such a good idea. He knew House had interacted quite a bit with his former roommate and the roommate's sister. It was good for House to exercise some social behavior. House would likely become withdrawn and depressed if he didn't interact with anyone. Maybe he could get the team to come in for consults more often and give more frequent updates on any patient they talked about.

House would never admit to being social, but even House was a somewhat social creature. He needed interactions on some level even if it was just to observe people and come up with creative insults.

He also required near constant mental stimulation - and other people could provide that. Wilson had paid for House to have cable and a DVD player in this room, but that was only so entertaining.

House had been gradually building up more energy and was starting to get increasingly bored.

He would, or would have, been strong enough for chemo before too long. Wilson really had no idea if, or how much, today's event would set his recovery back.

Before today, House hadn't needed an anesthetic injection for two days and had been off oxygen for even longer. Mathis wanted him off anesthetic injections a few more days before starting chemo. She also wanted his breathing to stay stable.

Today, House had needed oxygen and anesthetic injections in addition to a sedative, moving to a new room, a cast application, etc.

Judging by the bruises and pain he was likely to be in, he wouldn't be up for even the most basic bedfast physical therapy or lying on his side.

House's breathing had changed and his eyes were open now.

Wilson slowly moved into his line of sight, but didn't get too close. He didn't want to surprise House.

House met his eyes.

"I feel numb."

"We gave you a couple of anesthetic injections."

House suddenly became very animated. Amazing what adrenaline and anger can do for you.

"I THOUGHT I told YOU I could get through the pain now without any anesthetic injections. I thought I could trust you!"

Okay, House had told Wilson not to give him any more anesthetic injections, but House would have been in a lot of pain.

"This was a unique circumstance."

"Don't give me any more without asking first!"

House's eyes were furiously blazing at Wilson. He wasn't flailing or moving around, but his whole body was tense.

His eyes snapped to his lower body.

He quickly spotted the cast.

All the tension left his body and he appeared to melt into the sheets.

"I'm sorry." House apologized.

"What?" That certainly wasn't a reaction Wilson expected.

"I'm sorry."

"I heard you, but what are you sorry for?"

"I hurt myself again. It was stupid. I told them I was ready to help move myself when they were turning me, but I was too weak and I started hurting. I panicked and let myself fall. It's my fault. Now you have something else to tack onto my pathetic list of problems that everyone has to deal with."

House was tearing up.

What did House think had happened?

"Hey, it's not your fault. She just couldn't catch you and you fell out of your bed. It was a freak accident, not your fault."

"If I had admitted that I was too weak to move myself and just let them do it, I wouldn't be here and you wouldn't be oozing concern. Apparently I'm in a different room, too."

Wilson knew about House's collapse while trying to help move himself, but that wasn't the total cause of the accident, just the 'inciting incident.'

"It's not your fault. Look at me."

House wouldn't meet his eyes because he was rubbing at the tears running down his face, so Wilson continued, "It just happened. It's not your fault."

Wilson handed House some tissues and gave him a few moments.

House hesitated and sucked in a few more sniffles. "How bad is my foot? It just feels numb. I'm not groggy enough for you guys to have operated."

Wilson could tell House still thought the fall was his fault, but was changing the subject.

"I can get the films out for you..."

"Just tell me. I'll look at the films later."

"Three broken toes, hairline fracture on 1 metatarsal, a break further up the foot not too far from the ankle, and another almost at the ankle"

"6 new fractures" House said it with no inflection – he seemed deflated of emotions.

"Yeah."

He was staring at the cast now.

"When we looked at the tests of your hip and femur we saw that you have actually already entered the reparative phase. There is a small amount of soft fracture callus forming in with new tissue. It's barely enough to see, but it's good that you have entered this stage before starting chemo. At a little over 2 weeks that is decent progress considering your age and condition."

Wilson thought House might be glad to hear this - it really was decent progress.

"Thanks for reminding of my age and what a disaster area my body is right now."

House uneasily shifted his shoulders on the bed.

"You okay?"

"NO! Look at me!" House's anger was flaring.

"Not what I meant. Do you need some help resituating or anything?"

"NO. My thigh, foot, and hip are numb, but my knee, torso, right shoulder, and arm are killing me!"

House was miserable and obviously hurting. Wilson hated watching his friend suffer.

"Anything I can get for you?"

"Go away."

"Do you feel agitated? Do you think you might panic if you wake up alone?"

"No. I'm not about to panic. Just because I panicked once, doesn't mean I'll panic again."

"Actually, you've had 3 major episodes."

"I need to rest and you're stressing me out! Wilson, Go AWAY!"

"House..."

"WILSON! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

"Okay. I'm gone." Wilson whispered this trying to stay calm, but House's emotions were all over the map. House had just yelled at the top of his lungs.

Today was a whole mix of accusing, apologizing, panicking, crying, yelling...this was just weird for House.

He reminded himself that House was going through a rough situation. Pain alone tended to screw with your emotions.

He also couldn't forget that House had a major change in hormone levels since the injection.

HOUSE M.D.

House groped at the bedside table and paged Foreman with an urgent consult.

Foreman appeared at the door and entered.

As House's proxy he knew everything that went on.

Before Foreman could get all the way through the door, House was yelling.

"You knew I didn't want any more anesthetic injections. You're my medical proxy. They want me off anesthetic injections before I start chemo. I had already been off them more than two days. You set me back starting chemo! I trusted you to do what I wanted. Where were you when they wanted permission?"

"I gave Mathis permission to treat you for the foot damage."

"So, what? You just let her do whatever she wanted?"

"No, House. You needed pain relief. Do you know how much pain you would be in without those injections?"

"Yes!"

"And you honestly want that kind of pain?"

"Of course I don't want to go through that, but I would have made it!"

"House, your heart can't take that much pain. Look at your heart monitor."

House looked over at the monitor. Foreman reached in the chart bin and grabbed the printouts. He grabbed House's glasses and handed those over as well.

House poured over the results and seemed to deflate as all the anger ran out of him.

"House, a heart attack would have set you back even further."

Foreman and House sat in silence for a while.

"Yeah." House handed everything to Foreman and laid his head back against the pillow.

"Get some sleep."

HOUSE M.D.

Foreman knew House would be upset about this, but fortunately House could listen to reason. Foreman knew he was good at presenting the facts as medical data.

He figured that would be more effective than just telling House that he needed the pain relief.


	40. Can't Stop Yourself

(NOTE: Thank you all for reading, reviewing, alerting, etc. All of your support is appreciated. We've got a lot this chapter - Claudia and Casey return! There will be a lot more House/Claudia to come.)

After Wilson and Foreman left, House tried to relax back in the bed, but couldn't sleep. The numb places were the only part of his body that didn't hurt. The injections were obviously very targeted.

His hip, foot, and thigh felt okay, but his right knee felt miserable. He didn't want to think about how hard his leg must have hit the floor to cause that many broken bones in his foot and toes. It was almost a miracle the breaks in his femur and hip/pelvis weren't worsened and were actually starting to heal.

As soon as these injections wore off he wasn't going to get any more. He might hurt, but he would be okay.

He needed to start chemo! Valuable time was ticking.

His arm and the right side of his torso hurt really badly. He pushed the call button.

"Could I get another pillow?"

"What kind? Where do you need it?"

"Just a regular bed pillow. Across my torso and under my armpit so I can rest my right arm across it."

"Okay."

The nurse left and returned with a couple bed pillows. When House lifted his arm to reach for a pillow, she tucked one under his humerous/upper arm flat on the bed and laid the other across his torso and under his armpit.

"I've got it, Dr. House. Just put your arm down across your torso. As he put his arm down she shifted the pillows and helped him situate them at his side and over his torso. He started to bend his elbow.

"Dr. House, don't bend your elbow all the way to 90 degrees. Go a little less bend and it will be a bit more comfortable."

He followed her instructions and relaxed his arm. She had brought the nice memory foam pillows and his whole arm and shoulder felt a lot more comfortable.

"Better?"

"Yeah...thanks." The 'thanks' was quietly mumbled.

He was going to just shove the pillow under his arm by himself, but he was glad he had let her help him get more comfortable.

Maybe it was okay to let these people help him.

A minute later she was back with a towel and some ice packs.

"This should have been done for you sooner."

She bent over him and laid out some thin towels over his right arm and shoulder. She gently positioned several ice packs along the worse bruising on his arm and then draped a larger pack over his right shoulder. These weren't the lumpy uncomfortable bags of ice. These were the ones filled with a cool gel-like substance.

They felt like heaven.

"Does it feel too cold or sting at all?"

"No."

"Anything else I can get you?"

"No."

"Okay. I'll be back to check on you. Page me if the ice feels uncomfortable. I'll only leave it on for about 15 minutes."

She started to leave.

"Wait! Can you page Dr. Mathis so that I can talk to her?"

"Sure."

It didn't take long for Mathis to come trooping in.

"I thought Dr. Wilson was going to sit with you."

"I made him leave."

"Okay." He could tell Mathis wasn't quite sure how to react.

"What's the prognosis on my foot?"

"The breaks didn't require surgery. I was able to set them well and you should have a full recovery eventually."

"Eventually" House's voice was soft and depressed.

"How long is my chemo set back?"

"It depends on how long we have to keep injecting you with anesthetics."

"I don't want you to inject me again. Unless I have a cardiac event, you do not have my permission to inject any more anesthetics. I am in my right mind."

"If that is your decision...but you may find yourself quite uncomfortable." Mathis was a bit hesitant to agree to this. "Please realize that your whole leg was jarred pretty hard. In addition to your foot, your hip and femur will be very painful."

"The breaks weren't worsened and I didn't sustain any further damage in those areas, so I should be fine. My leg can't have been jarred too much."

Mathis tapped on the brace holding his right leg. "You do realize that this thing is thick. This is what kept your femur and hip from further damage; however, it cannot stop the effects of vibrations from an impact onto hard tile floor. You took a pretty good tumble."

"I know."

"Your breathing also has to improve."

House glanced at his oxygen saturation and saw that it was okay. He ripped the nasal cannula from his face and dropped it off the side of the bed.

Mathis just stared.

"Time is ticking! Cancer cells are probably multiplying as we speak! GO AWAY!"

Okay, apparently he wanted to isolate himself.

"Any questions?"

He didn't answer and she didn't leave.

"Any questions?"

"GO."

She had to finish this.

"Any questions?"

She just stood there for several minutes and he ignored her.

"I don't have questions! GO!" He finally gave in.

"Good night, Dr. House."

Mathis quickly exited the room. Mathis had heard plenty of stories about House and his stubborn nature, but she really wasn't expecting this. He had been sedated earlier and had panicked significantly before that. He should have left his oxygen on! Irrational idiot!

She could understand that he didn't want to set his chemo back, but if he didn't improve it would be set back even further. He had let the nurse apply ice and prop up his bruised arm - he wasn't a masochist. He just didn't want to have to delay his chemo and knew that additional medications and being dependent on oxygen would make them do that. Mathis knew the risks of putting off the treatment, but he had to be strong enough for it, or its effects would be devastating on his body.

It wasn't a matter of not wanting an oxygen tube in his nose for chemo, his breathing had to actually improve. She should have told him that - except he already knew that! She just hadn't dreamed he would rip his oxygen out of his nose.

Should she go back and tell him that they could do chemo if he was still on oxygen? No, she really might delay until his breathing was strong enough to be off the oxygen. She didn't want to promise him anything.

Mathis decided to stop by the nurse's station before leaving the ward. She had noticed on the chart that Martha had applied the ice and situated his arm on pillows.

House had obviously let her touch him. She was capable of being discreet.

It was about 7pm now.

"Martha, did you apply the ice to Dr. House's arm?"

"Yes, is there a problem?"

"No, it's good. Did he get upset or anything? Did he ask for it?"

"He just requested a pillow, but I brought the ice anyway. He didn't seem upset. He was quiet. I was actually about to go remove the ice. It has been almost 20 minutes."

"What time do you get off today?"

"I technically start at 7 pm, but I had just walked in when he hit the call button so I went on in. I get off at 3 am."

"Okay. Dr. Wilson and I have both noticed that he is emotionally unstable right now. He seems to have tolerated you, so I'm going to put you in charge of him until you get off. Watch his oxygen saturation. He decided to take his nasal cannula off and I don't think he's ready. He had two doses of sedative today and he is very sensitive to medications. If his SATs drop, try to convince him to put the cannula back on without him getting all worked up. Just keep a close eye on him."

"I'll do that." As if she didn't keep a close eye on all her patients.

"Well, goodnight. I'm headed out for the evening. Page me if he gets really upset or there is a problem with him."

The doctor on duty usually just handled the night problems, so she was surprised the head of orthopedics had asked to be paged if the patient got 'really upset.'

Martha walked briskly to Dr. House's room and gave a brief knock before sliding the door open.

"Did the ice help?"

"Yeah."

Martha carefully lifted the ice off his arm and removed the towel.

"Your skin didn't react to the ice or anything - the redness is normal. We need to leave it off for a while, but we can put the ice back on later."

She wrote in the chart and glanced at his oxygen saturation.

"Are you having any trouble breathing? Feel short of breath?"

House hesitated for a moment and then answered, "No."

She suspected he was lying, but wasn't going to call him on it. She would check back later and if his SATs didn't improve...

"Do you want the pillows adjusted?"

"I need to 'have a bowel movement' and I have to tell you because I'm totally incapable of doing anything for myself."

His tone of voice on that was really odd – almost like he was mocking himself. She had heard plenty of rumors about him, but didn't have that much experience with him personally.

"I'll be right back." Martha left to get a pan and another nurse to help lift him onto it.

She decided to go ahead and get 2 nurses since he probably wouldn't be able to help because of how sore he was.

"Oh great! I guess I need an extra nurse now that I have more broken bones and all sorts of NEW AND EXCITING bruises."

"This way you won't have to use your sore arm." Martha answered calmly. She didn't want to take his bait and get grumpy.

The three gathered around him, he took care of business, and they got him cleaned up before carefully lowering him back to the bed.

House still had trouble going to the bathroom with people standing by, but he was getting better at it - which was sad in and of itself.

The other two nurses left while Martha got him adjusted and fixed the pillows around his right arm again. She checked his IV and recorded the bowel movement on his chart.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No."

Martha was relieved to see that his oxygen saturation was normal. He seemed to be okay without the nasal cannula.

"Okay. I'll be back in later to check on you."

Martha looked at him, but he didn't react. Well, he didn't seem emotionally unstable. He seemed depressed at the moment. She figured anybody would be depressed in his situation.

HOUSE M.D.

Casey was out of the hospital and safely situated in his own bed.

All of the movement in going home made his pain spike yesterday, but Claudia was relieved that he seemed more or less okay today.

This would be their second night at home. Today had been uneventful. Casey had watched movies all day and she had spent time getting caught up at home. She had followed the nurses instructions and had made a ton of food that would be good for Casey.

Even though she was comfortably nestled in her own sheets, Claudia couldn't stop thinking about Greg.

For the last week or so, she spent every evening chatting with him. Casey would be asleep, but Greg would often be awake for hours. Claudia suspected he was an insomniac.

Last night she was up for a while, but tried her best not to think of him, but tonight...

Was he lonely or bored tonight?

Did another patient move into his room yet?

Did Wilson come by to see him?

Was his pain manageable?

She noticed that he was often, or perhaps always, in pain. He usually just sucked it up. He wasn't one to ask for help. He said that the hormone therapy injections

were significantly helping with his pain, but she could tell that he was still hurting and uncomfortable whether he was willing to admit it or not.

Claudia missed having someone to talk to late at night.

She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing right now.

HOUSE M.D.

House tried to relax, but just ended up staring at the big plaster cast on his newly broken, and currently numb, foot.

Yesterday, he had the great news about the cancer improvement, but today he woke up to no Claudia.

Mid-morning today came the spectacular fall where he busted up his foot.

This time 48 hours ago, he was sharing an excellent conversation about classic literature with Claudia.

Not tonight - he just HURT!

The ice had helped his arm, but House wasn't willing to admit how sore his whole body was. Everything except the numb areas hurt.

Based on the time of the anesthetic injection, the numbness would start wearing off at about 8 am and be out of his system by noon. Could he refuse the anesthetic injection?

He should go to sleep while he still had the numbness.

He couldn't sleep, though.

He wondered what Claudia was doing.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia finally turned over and started going through her last conversation with Greg in her head. Classic literature had been the topic. Maybe that would relax her to sleep...

HOUSE M.D.

Wilson was very worried about House. The fall was the absolute last thing he needed.

He came to work early and headed straight for House's room.

"I brought you breakfast." Always present food first.

House turned to him. He actually looked halfway decent considering everything that had happened.

Wilson wheeled the bedside tray table over House and positioned it for him to eat.

House was tilted back further now and his legs were elevated higher since the recent breaks in his foot.

It was an awkward position for House to eat from, but he knew better than to offer to feed him or assist too much!

He opened the fresh ham and cheese omlet he had made for House.

House ate the omlett without comment. He seemed to be on auto-pilot.

"How are you feeling?"

House normally hated this question.

He sent a nasty glare and responded with a terse, "Fine."

"Pain?"

"Still numb. The rest of my body is achy, but I'm okay."

House was apparently playing 'cooperative patient' today...Or he was too depressed to care.

"I don't want any more anesthetic injections even if the pain gets bad again. I'll push you away and kick you out forever if you try to give me those."

Okay, maybe not totally cooperative. Wilson decided to leave that topic alone. Maybe House would stay comfortable without the injections.

House's breakfast was gone now and Wilson knew his first patient appointment would arrive soon. He wasn't accepting any new patients right now, but he did have follow-ups coming in.

"Page me if you need something. I'll be by later."

House just nodded.

He paged the nurse.

"Could I get a couple of those ice gel packs again?"

"Sure."

Once he was situated with the ice, she was gone again.

He hadn't seen Claudia in 48 hours. He had broken his foot less than 24 hours ago, but that didn't even cross his mind this morning until Wilson asked about pain.

(That could be because it was still numb!)

His first thoughts were of Claudia.

He even dreamed about her last night - pathetic!

The next morning Casey carefully walked into the kitchen to find his sister up drinking coffee next to the stove

"I'm about to start some eggs. Have a seat, Casey."

He eased himself into a chair and watched Claudia stir the eggs.

"Sis, you look awful. Didn't sleep very well? Why?"

Claudia looked surprised as she turned around.

"I'm not sure why."

"Did you miss having someone to talk to these past couple of nights?"

"Huh?"

"I know that you and Greg used to sit and chat until all hours. You were probably lonely last night. You know, you can visit people when they're in the hospital. Just because I'm home now doesn't mean that you can't still go up to the hospital."

"I can't leave you by yourself."

"I want to be by myself. I'm sick of having people around me all day. I'm going to eat breakfast and then lie in bed and watch TV. Go see Greg."

Claudia had resolved to stay away from Greg. She got herself showered and found herself selecting a low cut sweater and carefully styling her hair.

"Casey, I put several small meals in the fridge for you. I marked whether or not you need to heat them."

"You going to see Greg?"

"Maybe I'll just go grocery shopping."

"Claudia, go see him. You know you want to."

"Fine. I'll just talk to him for a bit and come back. Call if you get uncomfortable or need help with anything."

"Bye." Claudia parked and headed into the hospital. She would just check in on him, and head on home.

She ran into Shirley on the way into the hospital.

"Claudia, Dr. Wilson and I are taking a case to Dr. Cuddy about what Dr. Weevils said to Dr. House. I know you witnessed the interaction. Would you be willing to make a statement if it's needed?"

"Certainly. That was apalling. I'll do anything I can to help." Claudia was glad the nurse was bringing a case.

"Could I get a cell phone or contact number for you?"

"Sure." Claudia gave Shirley the information and told her not to hesitate to contact her.

After parting from Shirley, she headed for the elevators.

She approached Casey's old room and started to head in...and found an elderly man. She immediately panicked.

Had something happened to Greg?

"Excuse me, Nurse!"

"Hi, Claudia! Did Casey forget something here?"

"I was going to see Dr. House. Where is he?" She could feel her heart racing.

"Oh. He was moved to orthopedics after he fell yesterday."

"He fell?"

"Here's his new room number." The nurse scribbled a number down and passed it to Claudia.

"Excuse me." The nurse quickly hurried off.

Claudia darted for the elevator. She had to make sure he was okay!

Once she was in the orthopedic ward she found his room immediately and stopped at the glass before going in.

She took in the sight of Greg lying in bed with his lower right leg encased in a large cast and bruises scattered over his right arm and torso. He had pillows under his arm and it was resting across his abdomen.

He looked sad.

Claudia gave a quick knock. Once he turned his head, she slid the door open.

"Greg."

"Hey." The corners of his mouth turned up as he met her eyes.

Suddenly Greg's expression changed from pleased to alarmed. "Is Casey hospitalized again?"

"No. I just wanted to see you."

"Did you leave Casey by himself?"

"No." She had received a text that his friend was coming by. That was great considering he hadn't seen any of his friends for a while.

She had a feeling Casey might have invited the friend just so that Claudia would be comfortable staying away!

"Oh." Greg seemed relieved. Claudia realized that he really cared about Casey.

"I heard you fell."

"Yeah. I fell out of bed. Got a new accesory out of it."

He indicated his foot with a gesture. He tried to make light of the situation, but he felt like a decrepit old man whose body was falling apart.

She sat in the chair next to his bed and tilted the chair so he wouldn't have to strain to see her.

"Claudia, I missed our chats these last two nights." He reached forward with his left hand and brushed it against her hand.

She clasped her fingers around his and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Me, too."

It was only about 10:30 am, but House was starting to feel the anesthetic wearing off.

He was genuinely pleased to see Claudia and found himself easily able to ignore the pain.

Claudia reached across his body and gently rubbed her other hand over his bruised upper arm.

"Your arm is cold! You need to call a nurse!"

Greg laughed. "They just took the ice off. It's fine."

"Oh. Does it hurt?"

"Nah. The ice helps."

It did hurt, but he could honestly say the ice helped a lot.

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss - a real kiss. Screw the pretending not to be attracted to him.

His color looked good and he wasn't on oxygen anymore. Other than the bruises and physical evidence of the cast, he didn't look worse today.

She had panicked so much upon finding him no longer in the room that she was just thrilled to see him.

He deepened the kiss and she began to nibble on his lower lip. She stood and leaned over his bed to get a better angle. He was moaning softly, but it was definitely a sound of pleasure.

The sound of a throat clearing caused Claudia to pull away from Greg.

Dr. Mathis stood at the foot of Greg's bed reading his chart and deliberately not looking at them.

"I guess I should go." Claudia was feeling supremely awkward.

"No, stay. Please?"

He was pulling on her hand, so she slowly sat in the chair next to his bed again.

Mathis glanced up and began. "Hello Dr. House."

She turned to Claudia, "I've seen you visiting Dr. House's former roommate, but I didn't realize you knew Dr. House so well. My name is Dr. Mathis. I am his attending."

This was awkward.

"Claudia Black." The two women shook hands.

"Now that the meet and greet is over, let's do the doctoring thing."

Greg obviously wanted to get the show on the road.

"How is the pain?"

"I'm okay."

"Can you tell if the anesthetic is wearing off?"

"Yeah. It is wearing off, but the pain isn't bad."

He was lying, but he didn't think Mathis could tell.

"Okay. Call a nurse and page me if it gets worse. I see your oxygen SATs are normal - any trouble breathing last night?"

"Nope."

"I'm not going to have you lie on your side any today because I know you will be in pain soon - particularly if you don't want an injection to help you with the pain."

Mathis sent House a glare.

House was relieved because he honestly didn't think he could handle all the shifting today.

"I'll be in to see you later, Dr. House."

Claudia was somewhat puzzled by this whole interaction.

"Why don't you want pain meds?"

"They gave me a localized anesthetic injection to help with the pain. If I keep getting them, I can't start chemo for a while. My pain needs to be manageable with the effects of the antagonist and the non-narcotics before I can start chemo."

"Oh." Claudia thought that made sense, but...

"Casey had narcotics during chemotherapy last time. Why can't you?"

House didn't know if he even wanted to go there. How to explain this...

"Um, I have a history with narcotics. I had been taking vicodin ever sense the infarction in my leg, but-"

"Wait, I thought an infarction was a heart attack."

"The infarction was in my thigh. There was a blockage and a bunch of muscle died. They cut the necrotic tissue out, but the surgery screwed with my nerves and left large portions of muscle missing. I've had chronic leg pain ever since and I've been using a cane. Make sense?"

It puzzled him that he was actually explaining all this instead of formulating some nasty retort. For some reason he desperately wanted Claudia to understand.

"I'm following, but not seeing how this affects chemo." Claudia looked a bit puzzled, but was paying attention.

"Anyway, I took the vicodin for a long time to help with the chronic pain and started developing side effects. I was hallucinating. I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital and they got me off the vicodin. I had taken it for so long that I was...like addicted."

He found himself checking to see if she was freaking out. She was just listening - so far, so good.

"I had to detox and it was really hard to quit taking the vicodin. I've had quite a bit of pain since I got off it, but I haven't had any hallucinations or psychiatric symptoms. If I took narcotics for this I could relapse and start having psychiatric symptoms again...and I don't think I can deal with that."

Well, honest explanation. Time to check for reactions.

Claudia didn't run from the room.

"That makes sense." She picked up his left hand and kissed his palm, then turned his hand over and kissed the top of it. She kissed it - IV, bruises, sticky medical tape and all. She didn't seem grossed out by him at all.

She didn't seem to be judging him or anything - she just sat there like nothing was wrong.

"It's going to be really inconvenient when you're hurting, though."

"Yeah." House whispered that part because it already was inconvenient, he just didn't want to admit it.


	41. I make you uncomfortable

Claudia and House continued to talk and laugh for a while. She managed to keep him distracted, but he still felt the pain starting to build.

From the tip of his right toe all the way up his leg and into his hip hurt like bloody murder. It felt like the pain was radiating up his torso and across to his left pelvis in waves. His right arm still ached, but it couldn't hold a candle to this.

There wasn't additional damage to his femur or hip, so why the hell did he hurt like this?

Mathis said his foot took a lot of impact. As he glanced at his casted lower leg he realized it had to have taken a lot of impact to break like that. He had made them bring him the x-rays that morning, so he knew what kind of shape it was in.

She said the fall had jarred his whole leg, but he was tough. He'd be fine through this pain.

He wouldn't be hurting like this if he wasn't such a stupid moron!

He should have just admitted to the nurses yesterday that he didn't think he could help turn himself. He had been his usual stubborn self and had said he would be fine to help and then he just couldn't do it!

Then, he had to panic when he discovered he couldn't do it. Talk about an overreaction.

He had to learn to accept physical limitations. He didn't like to accept limitations after the infarction, but this was worse.

Before yesterday his lower right leg had been comfortable, but now it felt like a throbbing, burning appendage from Hell.

This was his own idiotic fault! He had to start chemo soon and couldn't let them give him more anesthetic. He knew the cancer was 'eating away at his body.'

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew rationally that this fall was going to affect him and that they were right to give him those injections. That didn't mean he had to accept injections again.

"Greg?"

He abruptly realized that Claudia was talking to him.

"Huh?"

"You kind of zoned out. You okay?"

"Yeah...uh, I'm just a little uncomfortable."

That was one way to put it.

Claudia thought she would just stop by and chat, but he looked like he needed someone right now. She should check in with Casey, though.

"I'm going to step out a minute, but I'll be back."

"Don't leave..." His voice cracked a little bit.

He definitely needed someone. He wouldn't say that unless he was feeling vulnerable.

Claudia quickly dialed Casey.

"Hey, sis. You stop by to see Greg?"

"Yes. How are you doing?"

"I'm actually watching a movie with Jason."

"Have you eaten the small meals I put out?"

"Yes."

"Will you be okay for a while?"

"Sure. You going to hang with Greg for a while?"

"Yeah, he's in some pain right now and I think he could use someone just to sit with him."

"Oh. Is he not doing well?"

"He fell yesterday and is hurting pretty bad."

"Okay. Well, tell him that I hope he's doing okay."

"Call me if you need anything, Casey. I can be home quick."

"No. I'm fine. Stay with Greg."

"Okay."

Claudia hung up and went back into Greg's room.

"You're back."

"I said I would be."

"I know, I just wasn't sure."

Claudia reached for his hand and grabbed it. She gently ran her fingers along his left arm in a soothing manner.

"Did you check that Casey is okay?"

"Yeah. He's fine."

"Good."

"You're sweating. I'll be right back."

Claudia was worried about Greg. He had been happy to see her. He had told her about his vicodin thing, which she could sense was a big deal for him to open up to her about.

Now, he was just zoning out. She suspected he was more than 'a little uncomfortable.' She could see his stance on not wanting these pain injections, but he looked bad right now.

Claudia ran cold water over a couple of wash cloths and grabbed a towel from the bathroom.

As she walked over to him, she realized he looked so much worse than when she got here this morning. Hadn't that doctor said the numbness would be wearing off?

His skin was warm and flushed with droplets of sweat popping up.

She carefully dried the sweat off his face and laid a cool washcloth across his forehead.

"Mmmm. That feels good."

She wasn't doing much, but if she could help him a little...

"The numbness wear off?"

"Yeah."

Greg's eyes were half closed and she could tell he was trying to breathe deeply.

"Hey." She wanted to get his attention so that she could try to figure out if he was okay.

He met her eyes. He was making it.

"I got some good news this morning." He looked sincerely pleased about something.

"What's that?"

"They drew some blood and found some improvement from the GnRH antagonists they gave me."

"I thought that was already helping with your pain."

"It has, but it's also showing effects against my cancer."

"Oh my goodness! That's wonderful."

Claudia leaned forward and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.

"So, is it going to eliminate the cancer?"

"No, it's not a cure. It's part of what we're doing to get rid of the cancer. It's still a big deal that it's responsive to hormone therapy."

She could tell that he was hanging in there better now that he was distracted. She needed to be really positive about this. The other night he had started to make a comment about not wanting to fight...

"See. This is great. You're already doing this, already fighting it."

This time she leaned forward to kiss both his cheek and his mouth.

"What comes next?"

"Chemotherapy"

She had really hoped that with the antagonist he talked about he wouldn't need chemo.

"When will that start?"

"My pain has to stay manageable and my breathing has to be good. So, as long as I hold consistent, I should be able to start soon."

"You honestly consider your pain manageable right now?"

He looked over at his heart monitor.

"My heart rate is only a little elevated, but it's staying steady. It's not erratic. My breathing is fine..."

"I know, but you're hurting."

"I can handle it." Everything seemed to be accompanied by a wince.

House was desperately considering using the call button to get a nurse. He wasn't sure he wanted Claudia to know how much he was hurting right now. After all, he was currently advocating that he could manage his pain.

He just couldn't hold the pain in anymore. He could often converse fine and even feel decent through pain, but it was like there was a threshold where he just couldn't make it any longer.

"Uuughhh..." House reached toward the call button. When his fingers fumbled and he couldn't seem to reach it, Claudia pressed it for him.

Ever since the fall issue, nurses always responded to him abnormally quick. They had always come quick, but this was just weird. This place was a tight ship.

"What is it Dr. House?" A nurse politely queried.

"I'm... I think my right thigh is going to start spasming soon. Can you see if Dr. Mathis wrote orders for a muscle relaxer?"

The nurse grabbed his chart and quickly browsed the entries.

"I don't see anything."

"Can you please page her and ask. Tell her it's an emergency."

"Sure."

The nurse disappeared.

Mathis appeared in what seemed to be just a few moments. At least she always took him seriously.

The nurse must have explained the situation, because she looked like she was on the war path.

"I don't want an anesthetic injection. If the muscle will just calm down, I'll be fine."

"Do you feel tension in the muscle, or just spasms?"

"Tension in my whole leg"

"I'm going to give you something systemic, then. I'll inject it directly into your IV. It will affect your whole body and your muscles may feel somewhat weak, but it will help with the tense feelings. The tension is often the initiator in the spasms, anyway."

"You forget I'm a doctor and this isn't my first go 'round with my thigh! Uughhh...I need something...now!"

Mathis already had an injection prepared and was cleaning his IV port. Once she injected it, it wouldn't take long to start working.

He wished Claudia wasn't here for this. Sure, she had been in the room through all sorts of his chaotic medical issues, but she wasn't a foot away when doctors were administering stuff to him. Well, the first night when he squeezed the living daylights out of her hand didn't count since they hadn't met. He could alter the statement to now that they knew each other well; this was the first time...

Once the medication kicked in, it felt like his whole body was released from tension. His leg felt a lot calmer and it no longer felt like his muscles were guitar strings that had been tightened too tight.

"Better?"

Oh. Mathis was talking to him.

"Yeah."

Mathis made notes in the chart and then headed out.

"You feel better?" Claudia whispered.

"My leg still hurts like hell, but I don't feel as tense." Wait, wasn't his default response, 'I'm fine?' What was happening here? He felt compelled to tell Claudia the truth. He should avoid showing his weakness to her!

"I'm doing a lot better right now." Statement modified.

"Greg, don't lie to me."

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

"When you're in pain and trying to hide it the corners of your eyes squint some and the corner of your mouth looks different. You also sweat. It must be some sort of pain response for you."

"Yeah." He would have to remember that she could always tell when he's hurting.

"Why hide it?"

"It makes me feel weird to let people see it."

"I'm not just generic 'people' to you, am I?" She leant forward and kissed his sweaty forehead.

Claudia suddenly realized that she was delving into the emotionally romantic attraction 'thing' that she desperately tried to avoid.

"No. Of course not."

"See, you don't have to hide everything." She gently massaged his left arm where there weren't any bruises. She wanted to feel contact with him and feel as if she could help him somehow.

Claudia wanted to touch a part of him that didn't hurt. She really wanted to massage his muscular shoulders, but the smattering of bruises caused her pause. Oh gosh, he was sexy.

At first she had found his brace appallingly large and somewhat shocking, but she didn't feel uncomfortable with it now. She wasn't one of those sappy people that would say everything was invisible to her and she only saw him, but she wasn't scared away by everything anymore. She could certainly still see how disproportionately large his lower body seemed and how awkwardly he was positioned, it just didn't shock her.

She was used to seeing Casey sick, but he had never been immobilized like this or seemed so medically restricted or impaired. The thought of her brother sick and having a romantic interest in someone sick were worlds different for some reason, but it seemed okay now.

She abruptly felt drawn to him like a magnet. She stood up and leaned over him to kiss him.

Claudia started at his temple and slowly kissed and licked her way down to the corner of his mouth. She swept her tongue against his lips to request permission.

He granted it. He tasted kind of minty like Aquafresh toothpaste. It was subtle, but his taste was quite pleasant. She could taste the salty sweat on his face, but it didn't matter. She leaned over him. Previously he used his arms to balance her when they kissed, but now he only had his left arm touching her. She planted her hand next to his right arm. She was very careful not to lean on or put pressure on his bruised right arm that was propped across his abdomen.

"Sit." He was aggressively returning her kiss and this request was merely muttered against her lips.

He must have sensed how awkward this was and how uncomfortable she was leaning over him like this.

There was room on the left side of the bed, but she was hesitant to sit next to him because she didn't want to jostle him or make the bed dip and set him off balance.

It was like he could read her thoughts, "You're not going to hurt me. Go ahead."

Claudia very carefully sat next to his left side. She was much closer to him, now. This angle was infinitely better. She felt him move his right arm and could now feel his right hand slowly brushing against the left side of her neck. He wasn't exerting any pressure with his right hand, but just the friction of his slightly rough hand felt awesome against her skin. His stubble sent shockwaves through her body. His left arm was surprisingly strong and comforting as he held her up and slightly away from his body. She suspected his torso was sensitive.

The physical therapist had been working his arms and shoulders a lot before his fall and he didn't feel weak on his left side the way his did on his bruised right side.

She sat on the bed next to him with one leg bent and tucked under her.

Dang - who knew making out with a guy in a hospital bed could be so HOT!

She could tell he was getting tired as his right hand fell away from her neck and dropped next to his side.

Claudia was getting wet and knew that she should pull away before this situation got out of control!

She eventually had to back up just to get air.

When she pulled away to look at Greg, she was horrified to find him pale and gasping.

"Are you..."

He was pointing off to the right side of his bed.

She ran around the side of the bed to look and realized he was pointing to the oxygen.

Casey had never been on oxygen for any length of time, so she wasn't sure what to do immediately.

Greg's muffled voice came through, "Turn the silver-"

She cut him off "Got it."

Claudia quickly put the cannula up to his noise and positioned the tubing over his ears.

He was fumbling to help with his left hand, but she took care of it.

"Do you need a nurse?"

She had to admit that she felt totally panicked and was not equipped to deal with this.

He just shook his head.

She could tell that he was concentrating to breath, but he was also giving her a mischievous grin.

Claudia gently rubbed his shoulder and waited for him to catch his breath.

"You sure know how to take a guy's breath away." He sounded hoarse, but she could tell he was amused.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You're an awesome kisser."

The soft smile he gave her almost turned her into a puddle of goo.

"Sit with me again." She could never turn down the look he was giving her.

Claudia looked at the bed and quickly realized she wouldn't be able to sit by his right side because of the amount of space his leg was occupying.

When she got to the other side she noticed him carefully repositioning his right arm over the pillow.

Claudia hesitated again, but slipped her shoes off and sat down at his left side.

Since his left leg was positioned forward instead of angled off to the side and didn't occupy any extra space on that side, she was able to sit up close to him.

Greg used his left arm around her waist to pull her closer to his body. The bed was reclined some, so she leaned back next to him.

His arm around her was warm and cozy as she nestled up next to him and lined her body up with his.

She could feel the hard, rigid brace digging into her side. It was a strange contrast to his warm flesh.

It was an uncomfortable sensation against her side. She didn't know how he could stand this.

"What's wrong?"

Her thoughts must have shown on her face.

His face was turned to her and his piercing blue eyes seemed to delve into her thoughts.

She knew he was smart, but every time she looked in his eyes, she still paused at the intelligence and emotion that looked back at her.

"I was scared about the breathing thing earlier."

He looked at her doubtfully. She felt like a lie detector was on her.

"There's something else."

She tried to cuddle against him. She wasn't about to tell him that his brace was digging into her side. The brace and padding was so thick that there was a hard, raised area where the brace ended.

House thought about how nice her warmth felt against his body. He could only wrap one arm around her and couldn't turn to her, but this still felt intimate. He couldn't feel her through his brace, but just around his arm, shoulder, and upper torso felt wonderful. It suddenly occurred to him.

He dropped his left arm to the bed. He was no longer holding her.

"Having my brace up against you is uncomfortable."

He said this like a statement of fact.

Claudia darted to an upright sitting position. She wanted to get a better look at his face so that she could explain to him that she was okay with it, but she knew it came across as her wanting to get away from him.

She heard him grunt and stifle a moan as she jumped up off the bed.

Claudia realized she had no doubt jolted his body when she darted up.

She didn't know what to do.

"I'm sor-

"Don't say it." Greg looked stern now.

"I don't mean to be-

"I think you should go check on Casey."

"Really, I-

"You've been gone a while. Check on him." He seemed angry.

"But-

"Claudia! Please, just go..."

She didn't know what to do.

"Okay."

She understood. He just wanted her to leave. He couldn't process what had happened and she couldn't either.

She slipped her shoes back on and leaned forward to kiss him.

He didn't respond. She even flicked her tongue against his lips, but he didn't grant her admission.

"I'll see you soon."

He didn't respond and he wouldn't even look at her.


	42. How to Interpret Greg House

Claudia didn't know what to do after she left Greg's room.

She thought today went great until she apparently gave away her thoughts.

He thought she didn't want to be near him. He probably thought she was repulsed by him, but she wasn't!

She hurried home.

Of course, Casey was fine.

He was lounging on the sofa.

"How are you doing, Casey?"

"I'm okay. Did you have a good visit with Greg?"

All he had to do was look at Claudia to realize there was a problem.

"What happened, Sis?"

Claudia burst into tears as she slumped into the arm chair across from Casey.

Casey suddenly felt very incompetent. Should he say something comforting? Hug her...nah.

Seek revenge?

If Greg had hurt her...

"Did Greg do something to you?

"No." Claudia almost laughed through her tears.

"He just reacted to what I did. Nothing surprising."

"Sis, what did you do?" Casey just raised his eyebrows.

"Apparently Greg had fallen out of bed and broke some bones in his foot. He was pretty numb when I got there and we talked for a while. We had a really nice time."

"That sounds good...go on."

Casey wished Claudia could just get to the point sometimes.

"His leg started spasming and they brought him some muscle relaxers. He was trying to hide his pain from me and I called him on it. We had like this bonding moment. We started kissing. It was awesome. Eventually I needed air. When I pulled away I found that he could barely breathe – he was kinda pale and gasping! I almost suffocated him. He needed oxygen! I was so inconsiderate!"

"If he had been too desperate he would have pushed you away, Sis. He was enjoying the kiss as much as you were. So I'm going to guess you were all embarrassed about what happened and wanted to tuck tail and run."

"Well, yeah. I didn't really have time to think about that option because I was helping him get the oxygen turned on. He had been breathing okay, but had to get the nasal cannula and tubing back on. I was kind of scared I'd hurt him, but he was trying to reach out to me and asked me to sit next to him. So, I sat down on the bed to his left - you know where his leg wasn't sticking out - we cuddled and it was really nice..."

"AND...move on with the story!"

"I started to get really uncomfortable because his brace was digging into my side, but I didn't want to say anything."

"Of course, he picked up on it and asked you what was wrong. So, you lied. He picked up on it...and figured out what the problem was."

"Yeah."

Casey could figure things out so fast that it drove her nuts. Greg was kind of like that, too. This afternoon, for example.

"What happened at the point?"

"When he picked up on it, I was really surprised and jerked away to get a better look at his face. He grunted and tried to stifle a groan. I had jerked him pretty hard and apparently hurt him. He told me to check on you. I couldn't even get a read on what he was thinking. It was like he was mad at me."

"Sis, he was just embarrassed. He wasn't mad. He realized that he made you uncomfortable and was mad at himself that he couldn't be close to you. When you jostled him and hurt him, it was like all his suspicions were confirmed. He had probably been scared all along that he was too sick for you to possibly even care about him. Breaking his foot probably made him realize how fragile he is. So, he's decided to push you away before he can drag you down. Not to mention he is probably really self-conscious in his brace - he's probably feeling really hideous and gross. The fact that his brace affected you continued to confirm his fears."

"That makes sense. How can you analyze things so quickly when you weren't even there?"

"I've been sick. Being in a hospital bed makes you feel really gross. I could still shower fairly frequently, but he can't even have a shower. He's probably scared he stinks and regretted even asking you to sit next to him. Heck, he's probably still using a bedpan. That's just gross."

"It doesn't bother me."

Claudia could see this standpoint, but still thought it was kind of ridiculous. She didn't think Greg was gross. When you're sick and immobilized, it's perfectly natural to be confined to bed. She understood that he couldn't shower - she didn't even notice any odors.

"Now what?"

"Give him some space tonight. Go see him tomorrow."

"What about his brace?" Claudia thought her brother's solution didn't help her much. She had every intention of seeing him tomorrow. She just wasn't sure how to interact when she did see him.

"What about it?"

Casey could be so dense at times.

"I mean, do I ignore it? Make an effort to touch him and show him that it doesn't bother me? Sit on the bed next to him again? What do I do?"

"Sis, you gotta just kinda play it by ear. It's hard to know what to do without being there in the situation."

"Do you think I've lost any shot with him?"

"No. Don't be silly. He just wasn't sure how to react. I'm sure he was feeling awkward and didn't know what to do."

HOUSE M.D.

Once Claudia was gone, House just stared at the ceiling.

Before long, his breathing felt better so he took the oxygen off.

He looked at his right leg. The brace was a flesh colored plastic substance. The heavy white plaster cast was a stark contrast against it.

His body was horrible right now - he could barely stand being in it, who would want to be around it when they could just as easily leave? He couldn't leave...he was stranded in his own body.

He ran his left hand against his side and felt the hard edge of his brace and the lip where it ended and realized how uncomfortable it would be to sit next to him or be near his brace. No wonder she was uncomfortable.

Who would want a man that it was uncomfortable to be physically close to?

Now that Claudia was gone, he realized how badly he was hurting. He let his head drop against the pillow and sighed heavily.

He felt a lot of pressure in his lower leg and wondered if his ankle and foot was swelling.

House didn't want to deal with anyone right now, but he knew that swelling needed to be dealt with.

House pressed the call button and waited for the nurse to come in.

"I feel pressure in my lower leg - I think my ankle or foot might be swollen."

"It's been broken about 24 hours, correct?"

"Yeah."

The nurse walked to the foot of his bed and peered in the end of his cast to inspect what she could see of his toes. She felt around his calf where the cast ended. There was a small amount of skin exposed before his brace began.

"I'm going to page Dr. Mathis to look at this. Hang tight."

The nurse hurried out.

It was comical that doctors and nurses always told him things like "hang tight" or "be still." What other choices did he have? It's not like he was going to go anywhere.

It wasn't long before Mathis arrived.

"You have some swelling?"

"It feels like it. It's really uncomfortable."

"Let me look."

She took a few moments inspecting him.

"Yep, definitely got some swelling down here. We've already got you on anit-inflamatories. I'm going to look in at your thigh and see what we've got there."

Once she was ready she of course had to check with him.

"You're about to feel a slight change in pressure. You ready?"

"Yep."

He couldn't hold back the moan that came out whenever she opened the brace. He had got to a point where there wasn't much change in the pain when she opened it, now it really hurt. Damn that fall!

"You've got swelling here, too. You have the most swelling in the lower leg. Breaking your foot as well as being jarred from the fall is probably the cause of overall swelling. We're going to do some icing. Since you have a plaster cast on your foot, the nurses will wrap it in a layer of water resistant bandages first. The bandages will protect the cast from condensation. Then the ice gel bags will be draped around your lower leg and under it for 15-20 minute periods. Since your cast is plaster instead of fiberglass, it is even more water sensitive. I was able to reduce the fractures without surgery, but I don't want to risk having to change the cast because it is molded so precisely that I am concerned the fractures will shift if we take it off before the bones are on the way to knitting."

Mathis was now carefully feeling the cast on his leg and gently lifting it to check all sides.

"I didn't ice it initially because the cast was not dry or hardened yet. We spent so long getting it sculpted to the fractures correctly that it had quite a bit of moisture in it. They'll only leave it wrapped for short periods of time to protect it from the ice and condensation. Between icings, they'll remove the bandages so that your cast can continue to dry and cure.

"You're not going to like this, but I think we also need to get you elevated a bit more."

Before the fall, Mathis had actually tilted the bed so that he could sit up a little more. It meant that his leg wasn't as elevated.

"We'll lay you completely down."

"What about the angle of the brace? How will you keep me stable - shove pillows under my butt?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't even that elevated after the surgery - surely it's not necessary."

"I'm afraid so, Dr. House." She was already calling in nurses.

"It's going to be incredibly uncomfortable

"We're going to tilt the bed back so that Dr. House's upper body is totally horizontal. We'll put several of these egg crate mattress pads under his buttox/hip/lower back area and then use pillows to raise his leg up some."

It didn't take long until House found himself laying all the way back with his leg elevated more. This was the first time he had been totally laying down since the surgery and he couldn't decide if it was going to be comfortable or if it would be painful.

"Dr. House, are you okay?"

"I think so.

"Thank you nurses. Please get the supplies to ice him and take care of that as well. Surround the entire lower leg. His upper leg is swollen as well, but don't use ice there because of his muscular condition."

She was concerned that ice might make his thigh spasm.

Once the nurses were gone, she turned back to House. "I think I'll try leaving you elevated like this for now. I will check with you before I leave to see if the swelling has gone down some. I'll also let Dr. Wilson know so that he can check when he visits you - I'm sure he'll be in later."

"I don't think you'll need to tell him. This new position kinda gives away the concerns about swelling."

The nurses were already back to get him set up with ice. They had a roll of water resistant bandaging and were tightly and liberally applying it all around the cast.

Once they wrapped it, they put large ice gel packs under his leg, over his leg, and around his foot. He was surrounded so much that you just assume stick his whole leg in the freezer.

"The plaster is thick - that is why we are using so much ice." The first nurse was talking as she applied the ice.

"You okay?" Another nurse asked.

"Yeah."

"Hit the call button if you need anything."

House was tired and wanted to sleep, but his leg was too painful right now.

It didn't take long for Wilson to show up.

"Mathis said there was some swelling concern."

"Of course she did." House rolled his eyes.

House had discovered that this position was actually comfortable for his lower back. His right leg hurt like crazy, but his back felt a lot better.

He thought this might be the most depressed he had felt yet. Well, the night with Weevils was pretty bad, but today was crud. He didn't care what Weevils thought, but he did actually care what Claudia thought of him.

He had thought it was a great morning with Claudia, but then he nearly suffocated while kissing. He totally freaked her out there. Then, he asks her to sit next to him and his brace made her uncomfortable and made her pull away.

He felt sweaty - he knew some of it was the pain, but he also desperately wanted a shower or bath. The best he had been able to get was a wipe down with a washcloth. Maybe he could get that today. He probably stunk like no other. No wonder he repulsed Claudia.

Today he was supposed to have seen his physical therapist, but it had been canceled because of the fall and all the pain he was in. His upper body was sore, though, and he really wanted some movement in his arms even if it was just passive range of motion on his right side. His right arm felt stiff and sore. It was so tired he wasn't sure he could even adequately get it stretched out himself. He had them remove the pillows from under it when they put him totally back. Now his right arm was just laying at his side.

Wilson was sitting next to him not saying anything.

"Wilson?"

"Yeah."

"Can you get a physical therapist in tomorrow morning?"

"You're not actually scheduled to see one until the day after."

"Hence, why I'm asking. Remember, my session was canceled today."

"Okay. I'll make a note. They'll probably just come two days in a row so that we don't get your schedule off too much. You sure you're not too sore for that?"

"Would I be asking if I was still too sore?" House was starting to get really irritated with Wilson! He thought he was being pretty clear with what he wanted.

"House, you need to calm down. Your heart rate is all over the place."

Everything was always about calming down for his health. Relaxing so he could breathe yata, yata, yata!

"Wilson! Talk to me like your friend - not like a friggin' doctor to the pathetic disaster of a human mass that I am! You are still my friend, right? Not just another doctor to get onto me about stuff?"

"House, are you feeling emotionally unstable?"

"Am I feeling emotionally unstable? What the heck does that mean?"

"You know...you just seem kinda upset."

"Upset? Gee, could it be because my supposed best friend is treating me like a total invalid. He won't stop being a doctor long enough to be my friend! I really don't need any amateur psychoanalysis! Leave me alone, Wilson!"

It was almost dinner, so Wilson decided to go get House something to eat and come back. Maybe he'd be a little calmer by then.

House's vitals were probably all over the place, but Wilson knew he would only get more upset if Wilson attempted to calm him down. Wilson was half tempted just to sedate him a bit to stabilize his vitals. Okay - turn off his control-freak nature now.

"I'm going to go get some food. What do you want?"

"I don't want to eat right now!"

"Okay."

He said 'right now' instead of just 'I don't want to eat.' Surely that was something.

"I'll be back later."

"Don't be!"

Well, House was in a cruddy mood. He was definitely hurting and quite moody.

He should probably let House be for tonight just to calm him down.

Wilson slipped out of the room.

P.S. I adore reviews!


	43. Chapter 43

(NOTE: This one is a bit short, but I'm low on time. I figured I would post anyway.)

Like clockwork, the nurses re-appeared in 20 minutes and removed all the ice packs and the water resistant wrap.

"We'll leave the cast exposed for now and then come back in an hour to re-wrap and get the ice on it again."

"Do you need anything, Dr. House?"

"No."

"See you soon."

Great. He was willing to bet they would be doing this off and on all night long.

Technically, he didn't need to be awake for it, but he knew he would wake up as soon as anyone shifted the painful appendage.

They would have to handle the leg to get it wrapped and iced.

He decided to go to sleep while the ice was off.

Martha hated going through the icing procedure with patients at night. They rarely slept through it.

They had taken the first round of ice off Dr. House and it had been an hour now.

She trooped in with another nurse to make the change.

He was asleep.

"Should we wake him first?"

Martha thought for a second. She could risk startling him awake or hope that he might sleep through it. She figured they might as well go slow and see if he might sleep through it. They would be holding his leg anyway, so they could keep it stable if he did jerk.

"Let's go slow and maybe he'll sleep through it."

As soon as the other nurse lifted his leg for Martha to wrap it, they heard him.

"OOooowww." He started with a low moan.

"Ahh! What are you doing? You just took the ice off!" He was absolutely shouting now.

"It's been an hour, Dr. House. We're trying to be gentle."

"Well, you're gripping me like a damn gorilla. Uuhh!"

"Just a minute. Almost done. I'm going to lower your leg back down now."

The nurse gently perched his leg on the pillows again and began to apply the ice.

"How does that feel?"

"It hurts."

After the muscle relaxant, he thought that the pain was calming down, but this was horrible.

"My back hurts, too."

His leg felt horrible and he expected that, but his back? He thought lying down was helping, but apparently not.

"I'll be right back. I've got an idea."

The nurse returned carrying several memory foam pillows.

"I'm going to lift your left leg now."

The nurse adjusted his left leg and situated pillows under it until it was the same height as his other leg. Now his hips were even.

House sighed as he had people once again lifting, shifting, and physically arranging him like a piece of freakin' furniture.

Once he was in place and stable, the nurses stepped back.

He was amazed.

"That really helped my back."

"Good. We'll be back to remove the ice in a bit. Do you want us to wake you if you're asleep?"

"Nah. I doubt I'll sleep through it, but it doesn't hurt to hope."

He was still awake when they removed the ice, but he did manage to fall asleep before they applied more.

Again, he awoke with a painful grunt.

He didn't sleep for more than about ten minutes in any given stretch. This was completely futile.

This process continued for most the night until 5 am.

"We're going to go a few hours without applying ice to see if you can get a solid stretch of sleep."

Now that he knew he might actually be left alone for a bit, he couldn't sleep to save his life.

He wondered what Claudia was doing. Was she sleeping well tonight?

Hopefully she was sleeping at least better than he was.

He finally fell asleep at about 6 am so that he could wake up with the hustle in the halls at 7:30.

Wilson came by before work to find House with deep circles under his eyes and a grimace on his features.

"How's the swelling?"

"Considering I can't bend to look, I wouldn't know." House's sarcasm and grouchiness level was off the charts.

"Brought you some macadamia nut pancakes."

"Hand 'em over."

Wilson opened the container and set it on the bedside table so that he could turn and grab a fork and a plate for House.

Instead, House groped around and grabbed a pancake directly from the container, folded it in half, and took a bite.

"House, you don't want syrup?"

"Nope."

"I guess you don't want a fork either?"

House had grabbed a pancake before Wilson could round up silverware and dishes because he wasn't totally sure he could eat with utensils from this totally reclined position with both legs up in the air.

In the other position he could at least see the table and his 'prey,' but now he would just be looking at it from below.

He didn't want to admit it or have the awkward situation where he failed to eat the pancakes and then Wilson ended up feeding him.

"Do you want anything else?"

"You can go. Leave the rest of the pancakes."

House got almost no sleep last night and felt unbelievably tired and sore.

He was just finishing up the pancakes when Dr. Mathis came in.

"They're about to start icing your lower leg again, so I wanted to check for swelling before they do that."

"Knock yourself out."

"The swelling is a little bit better than yesterday. It definitely still needs ice."

"How 'bout we sit me up some so that I'm not totally flat on my back?"

"There's still too much swelling for that."

She could see the grimace on his face.

"You still sure you don't want an anesthetic injection?"

"Yes! Quit asking."

"Okay. I'll send the nurses in to ice you again."

Mathis was soon replaced with nurses once again carefully lifting his leg to wrap it and then lowering it to surround it in ice.

"We'll be back in about 20 minutes."

Thanks for reading!


	44. Chapter 44

(NOTE: I still don't own House. I appreciate all of the alerts, favorites, reviews, etc. You guys are awesome.)

He desperately wished Claudia would come see him today, but he knew that the chances were next to none.

That ship was totally gone now that she realized what his body was like. She couldn't even get close to him! Now that he was flat on his back, he wasn't even sure he wanted her to see him like this. He felt totally vulnerable.

He had to admit that he might have overreacted some, but he still didn't think she'd be back.

He got the nurses to help him use the bedpan the next time they removed his ice.

It was still embarrassing to poop with nurses standing by. It was even worse the way they had to juggle pillows around and help him with the way he was lying down. They eased him upright, but that just made him more uncomfortable.

After they lowered him and resituated him with pillows it was only about 30 minutes until his next icing.

"You okay, Dr. House?"

"Yeah."

"We'll be back."

He heard a tapping on his glass. Much to his surprise, Claudia was standing at his door looking at him imploringly.

He nodded to indicate that she could come in.

"Greg, is your leg worse?"

She was assessing his new position.

"I'm just having some swelling, so they've got me propped up."

"Oh. You look uncomfortable."

"That would be because I am uncomfortable."

He smirked at her, but at the angle he was at, he felt like he was looking up her nose.

He couldn't help but laugh. He normally couldn't laugh in a situation like this, but he was so pleased to see Claudia that it didn't matter.

She laughed, too.

Their combined laughter broke the ice.

House was still ridiculously sore, but he felt himself brightening just because she was in the room.

He couldn't believe he was thinking these sappy thoughts!

Claudia turned a chair to face him and settled across from him. She kicked her shoes off and propped her feet on the edge of his bed.

He admired her form, but suddenly wanted to touch her.

House reached out and lifted her foot. He pulled her sock off and examined her toes.

"You have weird feet."

"Weird feet?"

"Yep. Your feet are narrow, but your toes are short. It's kinda funny - I like it."

He tickled the bottom of her foot.

She laughed and pulled her foot away.

He proceeded in the same fashion with her other foot.

The nurses came in to ice him and Claudia stepped back to give them some space.

"You ready?"

"What if I say no?"

He loved testing people's reactions.

"Um. We'd have to call Dr. Mathis."

He didn't want them to do that.

"I'm ready."

"What are they doing?" Claudia looked puzzled and concerned.

"They're just going to ice my lower leg. It's another thing to help with the swell-uhhh...ah..."

House grimaced and pressed his lips together to get through the nurses maneuvering his leg around. He was still totally resolved not to ask for an anesthetic.

After the nurses left, he was silent for a moment just trying to catch his breath.

Claudia reached for his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Just give me a minute."

Claudia just held his hand until he exhaled loudly and met her eyes. They were that intense blue color that drove her up the wall and sent tingles down her spine.

"I'm better now. Sometimes the pain just has to pass."

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss. This time he did return it. After his lack of return last night, it felt wonderful.

Claudia had dated a few men over the years, but none of them could kiss like this!

Claudia was careful to keep the kiss short so she wouldn't suffocate him.

When she pulled back he gave her a smile. "You sure you don't want to kiss me to death? It'd be a great way to die."

"I think I'd rather pace it so you're here for me to keep kissing you."

She gave him a cheeky grin.

He was incredibly grateful that he had already brushed his teeth that morning. He was wondering if he stunk right now. He hadn't had a sponge bath for a while because of how sore he'd been. That was definitely in order for tonight!

He apparently hadn't freaked her out too much last night because she was back.

The nurses were soon back to remove the ice and unwrap his leg. The nurse gently perched his plastered leg back on the pillow when she was done.

He had to take a breather until the pain surge passed, but soon he and Claudia were talking animatedly.

Claudia leaned forward and began to kiss him.

"The physical therapist will be in to see...woah." Wilson's voice seeped into House's consciousness like an obnoxious gnat in his ear.

Wilson strolled in to talk to House and was shocked to see a woman leaned over his bed kissing him.

"House!"

Claudia jerked back and saw Wilson.

"Dr. Wilson."

"Claudia, how are you doing?" Wilson fell into default 'socially appropriate' mode.

"Oh, I'm fine. I just came by to talk to Greg."

"Your physical therapist is about to be here." Wilson was shocked.

"I really do need to go check on Casey."

Claudia gave him another kiss and headed out.

Wilson looked at House.

"See you later." Wilson was certainly in a hurry.

Wilson didn't wait for a response. He hurried after Claudia.

He caught the elevator just as it was about to close after Claudia.

It was empty except the two of them.

"I'm going to try to be professional here."

"Okay..."

"Stay away from House."

"Why?"

"He's vulnerable right now and you're preying on him!"

"I'm preying on him?"

"Yes! He's sick right now, his guard is down. You better not hurt him."

The elevator door opened.

"Goodbye, Dr. Wilson."

Claudia briskly crossed the lobby.

The nerve!

Why on earth would Dr. Wilson think he could control her?

He thought she was preying on him?

It made her furious!

She'd show Wilson.

The physical therapist showed up and took House through passive range-of-motion exercises on his right arm. It hurt, but it also felt good. She worked through his shoulder on the right side with passive exercises as well.

He did active range-of-motion exercises on his left side. She also had him working with light weights on his left side. He had been working his right arm as well, but it was too sore since the fall.

Once the physical therapist was finished, Wilson slipped back in the room.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I just finished physical therapy, so I thought I'd rest for a bit."

"House! You know what I mean!"

"Wilson, mind your own business."

"It kind of is my business. When she realizes how sick you are or you say something really insensitive, whichever happens first, I'm going to be the one that has to deal with your emotional breakdown."

"I'm pretty sure she already knows I'm sick and since when have I been one to have emotional breakdowns?"

"Um, based on your recent behavior..."

"Wilson, I think you should leave."

Wilson would apparently remind him of his emotional shortcomings for the rest of his life.

Wilson plunked himself down in a chair on the other side of the room and passive-aggressively remained.

It was about 10 minutes before House's team appeared with files.

"House, will you look at this?"

They had been by often enough that it was all standard procedure to hand him his glasses without having to be asked.

"Yeah."

Of course, Taub had to open his mouth.

"They leaned you back more, didn't they?"

House just glared.

"Why?" Taub was too nosey for his own good.

"Swelling." This came out as more of a growl than an actual answer.

"Hhmm. I want an actual whiteboard."

"House, you've been fine without one. Can't you just use the legal pad?"

"Key word: 'been' Past tense. I want one now. Taub, go get it."

It didn't take long for the board to arrive.

Taub started to uncap the marker.

"Give it to Foreman."

Foreman took the marker and started to write as the team threw out symptoms. It felt good. They had been working with House some during his hospital stay, but now it felt more like normal. The whiteboard and the team hollering things out with House's insults lobbed about really worked. It was weird that House wasn't at the helm writing on the board, but his voice still led the differential.

It didn't matter that he was on his back with his legs in the air. The board was angled so House could see it and Foreman was careful where he stood so that he wouldn't block it.

Once the differential was over, the fellows filed out, but the whiteboard remained.

The nurses were coming in and out to ice him, but the swelling was finally going down.

Mathis came in to inspect him.

"Swelling is looking better. I'm going to have them ice you a couple more times this evening, but then I want them to leave you alone tonight so that you can get some decent sleep. If you get that tight feeling again, though, call the nurses and they can get some ice on you. Let's see how you do tomorrow, but we might start chemo as soon as the day after tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Try to get some sleep tonight."

Wilson got up from his chair and approached House, "Good night." It was only a mumble as he left the room.

House was relieved that they would at least be leaving him alone for a while tonight.

A few hours and a few ice changes later, the nurses left him without ice for the night so that he could sleep.

It didn't take long for House to drift off.

HOUSE M.D.

As soon as he had eaten breakfast, he asked one of the nurses to give him a sponge bath. He desperately wanted a shower, but it was impossible. Hopefully this would at least help him feel cleaner. They used some special shampoo and he at least felt halfway fresh. They also changed his sheets. Changing his sheets was a painful process made worse by the recent fall.

This took multiple nurses because he came with such a configuration of pillows and other crap. The process was far more complicated than just turning him.

Once they were through and he was all propped up, it took a bit for the pain to settle down before he felt halfway human.

The swelling was down a great deal, but Mathis still wanted him iced periodically.

Thankfully, Mathis was willing to let him tilt up some. His leg was still elevated, just not quite as much.

Wilson had not been by to see him and that was probably a good thing. The team had been by to update him on the patient.

Claudia appeared at the door mid-morning and House nodded for her to come in.

"So, did you get attacked by Wilson yesterday?" House figured Wilson had chased Claudia down.

"Yes! Does he always attempt to micromanage your life?"

"Yeah."

"He said I was preying on you."

"I wouldn't mind being preyed on by you."

House's lecherous grin made Claudia laugh.

She leaned over and gave him a smoldering kiss.

"He said you would either realize how sick I was, or I would say something really insensitive."

Claudia reached for his hand. "I know you're sick. I think my hide is pretty thick for whatever insensitive things you might come up with."

House kissed her hand. He couldn't lean up to kiss her on the mouth, so he just brought her hand to his face.

Claudia leaned in to give him a real kiss.

"How's Casey?"

"He's doing a lot better. He's already getting stir-crazy."

"I'm feeling stir-crazy, too."

"Nice whiteboard. Some sort of diagnostic tool for you?"

"Yeah. It's my method. That, and insulting my fellows. Speaking of which..."

"I have new results for you."

Foreman handed over the results quickly followed by House's glasses.

"Do you need me to leave?" Claudia wasn't sure what to do.

"Nah." House didn't even seem to think.

"I just wondered about confidentiality rules and stuff."

"House doesn't worry about the rules. He just does what he wants."

"As long as it's in the patient's best interest. I don't break the rules just to break them - although it might be fun."

House smirked at Claudia.

"Does the guy do much digging around in the dirt?"

"He has a large flower garden at home."

"Why don't you tell me these things?"

"I didn't think it was relevant."

"Let me decide if it's relevant. It's a nocardia infection. Treat with sulfonamides. He needs additional long-term antibiotics. You can go away now."

With that, Foreman was gone.

"I'm probably starting chemo in the morning." House directed this at Claudia again now that Foreman was gone.

"You ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be."

The both looked at one another for a moment.

"Let's talk about something else."

House couldn't stand all this medical stuff for now.

"What exactly do you do for this computer company?"

It didn't take long for Claudia to launch off into her work and the finer details.

House was concerned it might be boring, but he was willing to talk about anything other than his cancer.

It actually ended up being quite interesting.

Claudia's work was fascinating - he never thought he would be interested in data systems, but the way she talked about it made it seem fascinating.

He wasn't bored, but he was quickly becoming drowsy.

"You look kind of tired. Did you sleep last night?"

"Yeah. I slept well, but I'm already tired again. They did a bunch of stuff this morning and I'm feeling kind of drowsy." (She didn't need to know that shifting so that a nurse could give him a sponge bath and changing his sheets was the 'stuff' that had worn him out)

"I think you should get some sleep. I'm going to run."

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss, which he eagerly returned.

He didn't want her to leave, but he knew she was right. He did need some sleep because he would also be having respiratory therapy later today.

Claudia passed Wilson in the hall and gave him a smile.

He kept going.

Thanks for reading – reviews are like food for my creativity!


	45. New and Modified Chapter 45

(NOTE: I have now fixed my medical error and put this chapter back up. There are some additional changes in this chapter. I apologize that you guys might need to read it again so everything will make sense!)

It was amazing that Wilson actually knocked on the glass before entering. He usually just barged in as it suited him. Wilson had exploded on him the night before about his kiss with Claudia that Wilson walked in on.

"Hey."

House just nodded at him. He wasn't sure how he felt about Wilson right now.

"I freaked out on you yesterday."

"Ya think?"

"I just get worried about you."

"You've got this Jewish momma thing going for you. Maybe you need a costume or something."

This was sort of an apology from Wilson and sort of an acceptance from House.

"I try to protect you, but I think I just end up butting into your life."

"Yeah." House was the first to agree.

"The swelling must be better since Mathis is letting you sit up a bit instead of being totally flat. I see they're still icing you."

"I didn't know it was _State the Obvious Day._ Your tie is ugly."

Wilson just sighed.

"You still plan to start chemo tomorrow?"

"Planning on it."

"Okay."

"Okay? You're not going to try again to convince me that chemo is a bad idea or I'm too sick or weak or something?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Good. Here in an hour or so they're going to take me to get a central line put in. The, should have done it sooner, but they're doing it today. They don't have to put me under for it or anything – it's just a local. I didn't think they'd want to use it for chemo right away, but once it's in they'll begin running saline through it immediately and it will be fine for tomorrow. The area just might be sore. I can ditch the IV and won't have to do any more blood draws from my arm."

"I was wondering when they're going to do that. They using a Hickman?"

"Yeah."

"It's fine to use the line right away in most cases. You've got such huge veins that it should be a piece of cake to put in."

"Yeah."

"Here. You wanted your laptop?"

"Yes."

Wilson handed over the laptop and House put it on the bedside table. He was already racking up a considerable number of journals and DVDs in his room as well as his Gameboy and Ipod, but he still hadn't gotten his laptop yet.

House felt awkward around Wilson after the little "discussion" they had just had. Their social contract never included apologies - in fact, their social contract didn't really exist.

"Well, I've got patients coming in soon."

House just nodded as Wilson before he left.

A few minutes later, nurses came to take him to get the central line in. They took him to a sterile room.

House had put in a central line before, but it was years ago. He had never been on the receiving end – he felt very out of place.

The nurse used a small ultrasound to check for a suitable vein in his neck and inspect his chest area.

She was one of the nurses specially trained for the procedure.

He was quite disappointed that he wouldn't get to watch. Once they positioned him, he had to turn his head to the left to expose the clavicle and give the nurse optimal access.

He was draped in sterile towels and the area was cleaned.

"Turn your head."

Once his head was turned, she numbed up the area and now he couldn't even feel the process.

Based on the sounds and sensations of pressure, he made a game out of predicting what part of the procedure they were on.

She already had all the supplies out – including the long, hollow tube made of silicone rubber. It was weird to envision it going into his own body instead of someone else's body.

A special needle was used to check the vein before a blunt wire could be inserted. The wire was just used as a guide as the rubber tube was threaded through.

"Checking the vein at the collarbone."

Great, a narration. He thought about telling her that he was a doctor and she could shut up, but he really didn't have anything better to do than listen to her talk.

"We've got a good location here. You will have a small incision near your collarbone. I'm threading in the guide wire which I will use to guide the tube."

Who's we? The classic all-encompassing medical 'we.' Not worth starting a discussion over – he just wanted to get this over with.

"Removing the needle and dilating."

"I'm threading the tube into the insertion site."

Where else would she insert it?

"I'm pushing the tube under the skin to reach the exit site where there will be another very small incision."

She didn't say anything for a while.

"All that is remaining inside you is the silicone rubber tube. I am putting in two stitches at the exit site to hold the tube in place until your skin heals around it. It'll just take a stitch to seal the entry site. Now that you've got the line in, we're through with the entry site."

He could hear her rustling about.

"I'm checking the hub by flushing saline through. I'm also making sure it's good for blood draws."

"You can move you're head now."

House looked down. She had already placed a dressing on the insertion site.

It was quite odd to see a rubber tube with several leads protruding from his body a few inches above his nipple.

A special dressing went onto the exit site to help hold the tube in place.

"I'm going to get an image to check placement and give to Dr. Mathis."

They took an image and the nurse declared the placement fine.

The procedure was pretty quick and House was returned to his room fairly quickly.

Instead of the IV catheter in his hand, the fluids were now connected to one of the 'hubs' protruding from his chest.

He waited for Mathis to come by. She was planning to come by and assess him one more time before going home. If all was well tonight, she would pencil him in for chemo.

"Hello, Dr. House."

She thankfully got right to the point and inspected him. He was glad she wasn't one of those doctors that got all chatty and tried to put the patient at ease.

"The swelling is getting better. I don't want to ice you tonight - I want you to sleep. I do want to tilt you on your back again so that we can elevate that leg a bit more. I'm sure you'll want to be able to sit up some tomorrow."

He knew she was right and wasn't overly surprised. He actually thought it would be nice to have a change of position.

"Okay."

"Central line looks fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Once I clear you in the morning, we'll get chemo underway."

The nurses came in to prop up his leg and put him on his back.

He didn't want to admit how nervous he was. He had certainly never had chemo. He usually passed patients on to oncology before they received chemo. He had never even monitored someone who was undergoing chemotherapy.

House didn't sleep well at all and felt like total crap the next day. It wasn't even just pain that kept him up - he just couldn't sleep.

He had been so bored during his stay. He had probably read more medical journals in the past week than he usually read in a month.

He got his laptop out and surfed for a while. It was awkward since he couldn't sit up. He had to rest the laptop on his abdomen. It was perched atop his brace.

House put the laptop away and finally drifted to sleep.

He didn't want to admit it, but he figured some of his difficulty sleeping might be nerves over the chemotherapy.

Mathis had already explained exactly which drugs his was receiving. With the type of chemo they were using, they decided to just give it as a drip into his IV instead of installing a central line or picc line.

Even though he was responding to hormone therapy, they still felt like it was a good idea to start the chemo right away.

Mathis and Wilson both arrived shortly after breakfast. The nurses had encouraged him to eat something light since he would be having chemo today.

"Whoo-hoo. I've got two oncologists coming to see me this morning."

Wilson gave him a little smirk, but Mathis was business as usual.

The nurses had already helped him sit up again. (Not totally sitting, but tilted up as much as the brace would allow. This was his version of 'sitting' for now.)

His day was slated to be busy. He didn't know if he would be up to having PT this afternoon, but it was still on his schedule.

Yesterday was the first day he had spent a little bit of time on his side since the fall.

He was a little over 2 weeks post-op. The stitches were already out of his hip, but the ones in his thigh were still in place. They were taking longer to heal through the scar tissue. The area looked gross. There wasn't any puss or infection, but just the thick, black stitches through the already disgusting scar tissue...yuck!

Mathis quickly reviewed what would be happening.

"Dr. House, I'm going to leave you to it. The nurse will be in shortly with the meds."

"I took this morning off to sit with you." Of course. Wilson was like a faithful Labrador retriever. House pretended to be annoyed, but he was actually grateful to have Wilson there. After all, Wilson knew exactly what was coming and that made House feel better about it.

He had apparently decided to leave his opinions about Claudia out of his friendship so that he could be there for House.

"You're likely to experience nausea with this drug, so we're going to go ahead and give you an anti-emetic to prevent the nausea." Wilson sounded so reassuring.

"Okay." He decided he wasn't going to tease Wilson about his 'nice oncologist' routine. As long as Wilson didn't start petting his arm or anything...

He injected the anti-emetic and the nurse hung the combination of chemo meds he would be starting today.

He knew he wouldn't feel anything for a bit, but just watching the medication knowing it was headed into his body hit it home even more that he did indeed have cancer.

Lately, he had felt like such an orthopedic disaster area that the cancer almost went on the back-burner, mentally anyway.

As the meds were hung, the cancer was front and center.

Wilson sat next to House as the drugs went into his body.

Fortunately, the anti-emetic kept the nausea at bay and House didn't throw up at all.

"I feel nauseous"

Wilson automatically bolted up and was shoving an emesis basis in front of House's mouth before he could finish the sentence.

"but I don't think I'm going to throw up. My stomach just feels nauseous and really uncomfortable. I was expecting to vomit - I always had this notion that chemo involved lots and lots of vomiting."

"For some people, it does. Everyone doesn't react the same way. Also, we gave you an anti-emetic before the treatment, so it's doing its job."

"I need some water."

Wilson poured some water and gave the cup to House.

"Only drink small sips or you might aggravate the nausea."

House glared at Wilson, but drank the water slowly and waited for the meds to enter his body. He always thought chemo would be this big, dramatic event. It was actually pretty boring.

"Well, you're done." Wilson got up to collect the bag from his IV stand.

"Okay. That wasn't too bad."

"House, you may start feeling some side effects. Keep the nurses updated."

"I'm going to take a nap."

HOUSE M.D.

"Are you going to see Greg today?"

Claudia was normally gone from the house to visit Greg by this time of morning. Casey was surprised to find her still here.

Lately, his sister was the happiest he had seen her in a long time. He suspected it had something to do with Greg.

"He's starting chemo this morning, so I figured I would go see him later this evening."

"You do realize he may have even more side effects by then, right?"

"Yes."

"You may just end up watching him sleep."

For some reason Casey seemed really hesitant about her going to see Greg today. She was with Casey for pretty much all of his chemo treatments.

"At least I can go sit with him for a while. Is there some sort of guy thing about not wanting people to see you after chemo?"

"No, I just want you to be prepared for what you might walk into."

"I've been through chemo with you. I didn't freak out when you threw up or anything."

"I know, but you've developed a very...well, almost romantic attachment to Greg. There's a different between that and being near me when I'm sick and you know it. Also, I didn't get many of the side effects. He's also having different chemo drugs than I had."

Casey didn't even know how to word this next part, but he had seen many different people in chemo treatments as he had gone through the process and he thought this was worth mentioning.

"Also, Greg is a lot older. It's often harder on the body when you're...old."

Claudia looked irritated and stubborn.

Casey just didn't want her in a situation that would be hard on her emotionally. Even though he was the little brother, he still felt protective.

"I want to go see him."

He knew that look and tone - there would be no changing her mind.

"Okay."

He knew Claudia was strong, he just didn't know if it was the best idea for her to deal with this right now.

Also, he definitely wouldn't want someone he was attracted to seeing him right after chemo. He knew Greg and he were alike in some ways. They both had a sense of stubborn pride.

If seeing him was what Claudia wanted, then whatever.

(Thanks for reading. I summarized the central line procedure. I skipped a few little details in the interest of not boring you guys.)


	46. After Treatment

(NOTE: This is a totally new chapter. If you have already read my previous chapter, I would recommend checking it again because I went in and made quite a few changes to fix a medical error that I made. I appreciate the member that alerted me to that error. I'll be gone to a work conference for the weekend, so you won't get anything new for a few days.)

House slept off and on throughout the day. He wasn't able to eat dinner. Just the smell nauseated him. He could be heard all over the ward yelling at the dietary attendant to go away.

He finally woke that evening when he heard his door slide open.

He was pleased and somewhat surprised to see Claudia slipping in. She knew he was starting chemo today. He figured she would probably stay away so that he could get through some of the side effects on his own.

"Oh! I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay. I've been asleep all day."

"How are you doing?"

House started to raise his head to look at Claudia, but he felt dizzy and quickly lowered it back onto the pillow.

"Okay."

"Had many side effects yet?"

"Lightheaded, sleepy, exhausted...my stomach is uncomfortable and nauseated, but I haven't thrown up. My muscles and joints are achy, but it's hard to say if that is from the broken bones and fall or the chemo. It's probably too soon for that to be the chemo."

What happened to his default position of 'I'M FINE?' Why couldn't he lie to her?

"How's the leg?"

Claudia reached out and ran her hand along the outside of his brace near the knee and thigh. She knew he couldn't feel her hand, but she wanted to show him that she was getting more comfortable with his brace and wasn't trying to distance herself from it.

"Bad."

He normally hated it when people asked him how he was feeling or for details about his health, but he found himself giving her honest answers instead of snarky retorts.

"When's the next session?"

"They're supposed to be a week apart. These particular meds are used either a week apart of every three weeks. If my counts are okay and stuff, they want to go with a week apart. They want to be aggressive with this stuff - I agree with them. The IV stuff I got today is a mixture of several different chemo drugs. They all serve specific purposes. In two days they are going to give me an oral dose that is another type of chemo. How's Casey?"

"He's doing well considering the situation. He's frustrated that he can't eat much at once, but if he keeps quantities low and either eats soft things or we puree it a bit, he does okay."

"When do they want to start his chemo?"

"There isn't a big hurry on him, so Dr. Wilson and the gastroenterologist want to wait until he's recovered from the surgery quite a bit. It's only been a couple weeks."

Greg was looking really uncomfortable, but Claudia couldn't read him on what the problem might be.

"Is it hot in here to you?"

The temperature in Greg's room was normally comfortable. He didn't wear a gown because of the brace and he didn't pull the covers up. She would guess it was probably more comfortable for his right leg to be left uncovered instead of the sheet draped over like a tent. Only his right leg was elevated now. His groin was covered and he would sometimes wear a sock on his left foot, but he otherwise didn't wear clothes.

She loved staring at his muscular shoulders.

Whoa, Earth to Claudia. He had just asked a question!

"It doesn't seem warm to me."

House really didn't want to ask her to do anything for him, but this was driving him nuts.

He had a sock on his left foot right now, and he was feeling ridiculously hot!

He couldn't bring his left foot up because of the brace. He couldn't reach his own foot to yank the sock off! He couldn't bend at the waist. If he had some sort of stick he could probably push it off, but he didn't.

He didn't want to get in the habit of making her do things that he couldn't do for himself. He didn't want her to think he was using her as some sort of personal nurse or care-giver. Things shouldn't fall in that pattern and he didn't want to take advantage of her. He didn't want her to be his nurse-maid, but it also seemed awkward for him to call a nurse to remove his sock when she was standing there.

His foot probably stunk!

Oh well, here goes...

"Could you pull the sock off my left foot?"

She nodded and immediately went for his foot.

Strangely, she didn't seem at all put out at having to help him.

She didn't pull the sock off with two fingertips like it was a stinky morsel of yuckiness, either. She lifted his calf and pulled the sock off, brushing her hand against his foot as she went.

He wouldn't want to touch his own foot right now. Ick! Sure, the nurse had cleaned it during his last sponge bath, but that wasn't near as nice as a shower or bath.

"Is your foot itchy?"

Now that he thought about it, it was a bit itchy. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't enough to even care.

"Not really. Why?"

"There's some kind of rash on the sole of your foot."

"That's just one of the possible side effects of the chemo meds. It's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I am a doctor!"

Okay, he was getting irritated now. Deep breath.

"Thanks." This was just a soft mumble of gratitude. She would have missed if she wasn't paying really close attention to him.

"Sure." She thought a rash on the sole of the foot seemed a bit weird, but Greg was receiving different chemo meds than Casey had. During Casey's treatment, the chemo nurses kept telling them that everyone reacted differently and there was no way to predict exactly how your body would feel or respond.

It did feel better to have his foot bare. He wished his right foot could be bare, but it was too bound up in plaster for that to be possible.

He could tell that the swelling was down because he didn't have the same tight sensation down there. It was just really uncomfortable and hot. The plaster cast wasn't at all breathable. His brace wasn't particularly breathable, either.

He felt so warm. House grabbed the water off his bedside table and took a few sips and set it back. Claudia stepped forward and filled the cup with ice water without him even asking.

"Claudia."

"Hmm?"

How to phrase this...

"Are you here just because I'm sick, needy, pathetic, or something?"

"No. Don't be silly."

"It's not a silly question. I'm practically helpless. I don't want you to stay just because I can't take care of myself or you feel obligated."

"Greg."

Claudia approached his bed and perched at the left edge of his bed. This was the first time she sat on the bed since the whole uncomfortable brace, jerking away incident that caused Claudia to go home in tears.

He felt compelled to look away.

"Greg. Look at me, please."

He could never turn down her voice.

His piercing, yet sensitive, blue eyes drove right into her soul.

"Dang! Your blue eyes are like smoldering sex magnets!" This exited Claudia's mouth at barely a whisper.

Greg suddenly started laughing.

"What?" Claudia didn't know what was so funny. She hadn't said anything!

"Smoldering sex magnets? Have you been reading romance novels?"

He was wearing that comical, snarky smirk that she had come to adore. Claudia knew she must be beet red by this point. She didn't mean to say that out loud.

Those eyes! He had quit laughing now and those eyes were boring into her again.

"What I meant was that I'm here because I want to be here - no other reason. Ask Casey- I don't do things out of obligation. A couple years ago, my mother broke her hip. I was supposed to be caring for her. The woman was driving me nuts. I called a neighbor and pretended to have an 'emergency' at work. Now, keep in mind that I work from my computer and can do my work just about anywhere. The 'emergency' ended up lasting for almost 2 weeks - I made up a fictional fire in the corporate office that caused our systems to shut down nationwide. We weren't nationwide at that point! The neighbor woman was so gullible." Claudia and Greg were both laughing at this point.

"I snuck out and dumped my own mother on the unsuspecting neighbor. Do I sound like someone who does things out of obligation? I'm not here because you're helpless or for any other reason except that I enjoy your company. Do you not realize how unique you are? You're witty sense of humor and sarcasm, your ability to follow anything intellectually; even your arrogant asshood is fun to be around! I just enjoy your company and I-"

She obviously had Greg's undivided attention until the last sentence when his arm darted out to the bedside table for the emesis basin. He started emptying his stomach into the plastic receptacle. She pressed the call button for lack of a better idea.

A nurse came in and glanced at his vitals.

"You have a note from Dr. Mathis to administer a dose of IV zofran in the event of vomiting or nausea."

Claudia couldn't stand watching Greg like this.

"Administer the damn drug!" She couldn't contain herself.

The nurse quickly grabbed the med and began pushing it.

It took a little while to get his vomiting under control. He was eventually down to just heaving.

"Next time, call us when you feel nauseas or think you might vomit. Don't wait for it to actually happen - no need to go through that. You are responding well to anti-nausea meds. You might as well take advantage of that."

The nurse gave him a smile and squeezed his shoulder. She also gathered up the basin and gave him a washcloth to clean up his face. She gave him a drink of water and another basin which he used to rinse out his mouth and spit into.

"Your temperature is also a bit elevated. It is a likely side effect. Let me check in with Dr. Mathis to see what her plan is there."

It wasn't long before the nurse returned to administer meds. "Dr. Mathis wants to get ahead of the game here so that your fever doesn't get out of control."

The nurse pushed the meds and meticulously recorded everything. She checked with him to make sure he didn't need anything else and slipped out of the room.

"I think I'm developing a pharmacy in my bloodstream."

His smile seemed tight and somewhat forced. He was trying to put on a cheerful front for Claudia.

"Do you feel as cruddy as you look right now?" Claudia could see right through him and was painfully honest.

"If I look as bad as I feel, then I look like total crap."

His thinning hair was sweaty and somewhat matted looking. He was pale except for the reddish flushing that was no doubt caused by the fever. Of course, he still had the brace, cast, and fading bruises. Leads were coming from his chest going to a heart monitor, a pulse-ox was on his finger, an IV with multiple bags hanging was feeding into his hand, and an assortment of pillows were propping him in place. He had dark circles under his eyes.

Despite how horrible he looked, Claudia felt heat in the pit of her stomach.

"Pretty much, but you are sexy crap."

Claudia leaned in as if to kiss him-

"I just threw up!" House put his hand over his mouth before she could get too close.

"Okay." Claudia just laughed.

"How 'bout we just hold hands for right now?"

"Works for me." Claudia still wished they could kiss, but she had to agree that now was not the time.

Once Greg was sleeping soundly, Claudia crept out and headed home. She found herself wanting to sit with him and hold his hand all night, but she wanted to get home to Casey.

She knew he was fine, but she still had to check. She wrote out a note that said, "SEE YOU SOON" and slipped it into his hand in place of her own.

When House woke up at about 3 am he was happy to see the note left by Claudia. He realized she would go check on Casey, but he was pleased that she had taken the time to let him know that she'd be back.

He drifted off to sleep again.

Now that House found himself as a cancer patient, he really wished he knew more about the newer and varied cancer treatments. Ever since he started working at PPTH and had Wilson close by, he depended on him to deal with any of his consults, questions, or concerns. As a diagnostician, infectious disease specialist, and nephrologist he spent a tremendous amount of time reading, researching, and keeping up with advances in all areas of medicine. He had to stay on top of it all to be an effective diagnostician. He did let himself slack off in one area, though: oncology. He depended on Wilson.

His treatments were a combination of several drugs via IV once a week and an oral pill that followed 2 days after the IV treatments. Not only was each drug's side effects a concern, the way the drugs would interact with one another was also a concern. He had read the brochures and studied this stuff in med school, but really didn't know EXACTLY what was happening in his body.

House found his appetite absolutely shot after the chemo. Nothing tasted right - it all seemed 'off' somehow. He found himself only eating enough to barely get by. Half the time he ended up needing anti-emetics just to eat anything.

Thankfully, Claudia continued to come see him. It was the highlight of his day.

About 3 days after the first chemo treatment House noticed a burning sensation in his mouth. He was just eating, or rather choking down, a banana when it first started burning. There was no obvious food cause - a banana was pretty tame.

Of course, House knew the drugs could cause mouth sores, but he wasn't expecting anything. These weren't even sores; his mouth just had this painful burning sensation.

Every time he thought of chemo side effects, nausea, fatigue, and hair-loss popped into mind. He fatigue was bad, but the nausea actually wasn't as bad as he envisioned. He was nauseated, but it was bearable. He hadn't thrown up since that first day when Claudia was in the room.

All these other weird sensations and feelings were popping up. Weirrd tastes, itchy feet, fever, and mouth pain - he wasn't expecting these things!

When Wilson came in that morning, House was ready to assault him with questions.

"Would this med combo be likely to cause my mouth to hurt?"

"Definite possibility. Any sores or do you taste blood?"

"No. It is like a burning pain."

"You definitely have some redness around your lips. Let me look in your mouth."

Wilson grabbed his flashlight and House opened his mouth. He was capable of cooperating when he actually wanted to know something.

"More redness in your mouth."

"Get me a mirror."

"Seriously, House? Do you not trust me?"

"I just want to see for myself."

"I'll be right back.

Wilson came back and gave House a mirror.

House took the mirror and examined the inside of his mouth.

"Yuck."

"Your chemo targets rapidly dividing cells because your prostate cancer cells are dividing rapidly. The cells in your mouth and on your lips also divide rapidly, thus they are vulnerable to the chemo treatments as well."

"I did study basic concepts in med school as well!"

Wilson thought that it might be reassuring to hear these basic facts again, but apparently he was irritated. Time to move on. Maybe go with something he might not know.

"You're on several chemo drugs. Two of which, Etoposide and Doxorubicin, are particularly noted to cause mouth sores. You had both, so you had a bit of a double whammy."

"I've been to the dentist recently, I don't smoke regularly, and I've been brushing and flossing, so this can't possibly be mouth sores from the chemo. It's probably unrelated."

Great, House was in denial.

"Everyone is affected differently. The chemo drugs you received could definitely cause this. You may just be susceptible despite adequate dental care. You don't have any major risk factors, but that doesn't mean you can't develop the side effect."

Wilson looked at House for a response.

He didn't really do anything. He just kept examining his mouth. He was now pulling his lips back to look at his gums.

Wilson was going to take the mirror back, but House was too busy.

"I'm going to order you a rinse that should be soothing. It will also help prevent any infections or bleeding."

He wasn't surprised that House didn't respond. He updated House's chart and left.

House hadn't really looked at himself since this all started, but now he examined his face.

Despite his lack of grooming in the past few years, he always did check his appearance in the bathroom mirror every day. He hadn't even stood before a bathroom mirror in so long...

He had been trimming his stubble with his electric razor, but that was such a habitual action that he didn't even look in the mirror.

This little mirror would have to do.

His mouth was significantly redder than he remembered it ever being. He could see what was probably the beginning of mouth sores.

His face seemed a little swollen, but his cheeks appeared slightly sunken.

A nurse arrived with a rinse and a basin for him to spit it out in.

He cooperated and followed her instructions - if for no other reason than he wanted her to leave.

Thanks for reading – reviews are appreciated!


	47. Close

NOTE: I'm back now! For your patience, you get a long update.

A few days later he had full-blown ulcer-like mouth sores.

Mathis used her flashlight to examine his mouth and gums.

"I don't see any in your throat. That's good news. They shouldn't impede your breathing. There isn't any tooth decay, either. These should cause no permanent damage."

"You can pull the positive out of anything, can't you?"

Mathis ignored him.

"Treating mouth sores primarily involves minimizing your pain until the cells of your mouth heal and begin regenerating after your cancer treatment ends. We can try to prevent them from worsening by using cold rinses during your next treatment. If we keep your mouth cool during treatment, the cells may be less likely to absorb as much of the poison."

House couldn't help but snort out a single chuckle. "Poison?"

"In a way, that's what it is."

"It's just really ironic that you word it that way."

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia had been kissing him really gently the past couple of days because of the redness developing around his mouth. She didn't use any tongue because she knew it might hurt him. He didn't say anything about it and she didn't bring it up.

She could tell when he was in pain and she was positive that the kisses hadn't been making him hurt more than otherwise - so she saw no problem.

When she visited him today, she noticed that his mouth looked even worse - redder and kind of swollen.

After tapping on his door and entering, she leaned forward to lightly kiss him as she had been doing.

"Wait, wait..."

"What is it, Greg?"

"I'm sorry, but we can't kiss right now. I've got full-blown mouth sores now. It's gross."

"It doesn't bother me. I enjoy kissing you - I'll be careful not to hurt you."

House actually figured she'd be so grossed out by now and that she would be relieved that he had turned her away.

"It's not the pain."

"Then, why don't you want to kiss me?"

"I want to kiss you, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"My mouth is subject to infections right now. Even though I know you brush your teeth and stuff, the human mouth still contains a lot of bacteria. The sores are somewhat open now and my immune system is weakened from the chemo."

She could tell that he was embarrassed to tell her this. She wasn't sure how to react.

If she was too reassuring, then he might think she was relieved not to have to kiss him because he was 'gross.' (His wording, she didn't think he was gross.)

If she was too disappointed, he would feel guilty. Better to just not dwell on it.

"Can I still kiss your forehead?"

That actually drew a look of amusement from him. "Yeah. Just not my mouth or anywhere near it."

It didn't take her long to lean in and assault his forehead and temples with kisses. She skipped his mouth and cheeks and kissed down his neck and along his jaw.

Claudia was thrilled that her kisses drew a moan of pleasure from his throat.

She was driving House nuts - he loved kissing Claudia, but he knew that if his mouth got infected, it could spread. He might not be able to have chemotherapy as scheduled.

He would have to abstain.

"I can't kiss you back."

She rubbed his shoulder. "I don't care."

She continued her kissing and ministrations, but all he could reciprocate with were touches. He stroked her shoulders and eased his fingers underneath her shirt.

When she pulled away he was worried, but then he saw that she had slipped off her shoes and was kneeling on the bed next to him so that she could lean over him.

His torso wasn't near as sore, so he pulled her in for a gentle hug.

Claudia was pleased when he drew her in for a hug. He felt wonderful. When he slipped his hands under her shirt, her spine tingled and she found herself moaning.

She was relieved that she had closed the blinds on her way in or this would have been quite a show for anyone in the hall.

She was careful not to put much pressure on him, but she rubbed her hands over every surface of his muscular shoulders and down his chest.

His nipples were tantalizing as they peeked out the top of his brace. She had never touched them before and she felt her fingers drawn to them. As soon as she touched them, he moaned.

She knew he was on hormone therapy and found it odd that he was obviously aroused. Wasn't his testosterone blocked out? She glanced down. He had a towel over his groin, but she could tell he didn't have an erection, but he was obviously still enjoying her touch.

She didn't totally understand hormone therapy. She didn't know if he would have a sex drive or not.

Maybe it was just physical contact. Oh well, she enjoyed it and she could tell he was enjoying it.

His hand was now on her rear and he was massaging her butt cheek with one hand and groping her boob through her bra with the other hand. The sensation was fabulous. This was more arousing and enjoyable than most of the sex she'd had in her life and she was still fully clothed.

She stroked his muscular shoulders and went back down to his nipples. She gave one a slight twist and was startled when he yelped, "Ow! Gentle." She hadn't even been rough on his nipple. He froze, but then continued his ministrations a moment later. She licked his nipple with her tongue to soothe it. He shuddered even harder and gasped again.

She moved up to his neck and ear lobe. She assaulted his ear lobe with her tongue. She had to keep reminding herself not to kiss his mouth.

His hands felt like heaven as they moved around under her shirt and across her breasts.

Suddenly their eyes locked and it was absolutely electrifying. They both froze.

They did nothing but stare at one another for a few minutes. Literally, it probably was several minutes.

"I have an idea. I'll be right back." She gently pulled away and eased off the side of the bed being careful not to jostle him.

She went to the bathroom and grabbed a clean hand towel.

She came back and folded it over as she sat on the side of the bed. She laid it against the hard ridge of his brace and aligned her body with his. The towel cushioned the hard part against her skin.

"Perfect." She whispered this in his ear.

She was now cuddled up against him, but his brace wasn't poking into her.

She would have dealt with the discomfort just to be close to him, but she thought he would feel better knowing that the brace wasn't poking into her side.

"Lift your head." He complied and Claudia shifted his pillow just a bit so that she could lay her head down next to his.

She laid on her side and draped her arm across his warm chest.

"This is nice." She loved the feeling of being cuddled up next to him.

"You comfortable?"

He was seriously asking her is she was comfortable when he was the one immobilized in a brace and cast and lying in a hospital bed?

"Yeah. You okay?"

She figured she'd go with 'okay' because she already knew he couldn't possibly be comfortable.

"Hmmhmm." He sighed contentedly.

She rubbed her hand across his chest.

She gently ran her finger around his central line. She didn't touch it, but she did touch his skin. He hadn't mentioned the central line and she hadn't brought it up. There were still stitches holding it in place and there was a piece of silk medical tape holding it as well - presumably to keep pressure off of the cuff holding it in his skin. There was a thin transparent dressing over the actual hole and stitches, but the rest of his skin was exposed.

The only thing connected to Greg's line right now was a single bag of what appeared to be clear fluids.

Casey had a central line when he went through chemo. Casey didn't have this many leads on his, but it was stitched in place and then taped in the exact same manner.

She remembered Casey's line took about three weeks to become fully surrounded by tissue so that it would remain in place without stitches or tape anchoring it.

Casey would gripe about it hurting initially and then about it being uncomfortable. Greg hadn't said a word.

Maybe it didn't hurt if you were still instead of moving around.

More likely, this was another example of Greg's attempt to not show his pain.

Her fingers continued their progression across his chest.

When her finger went across one of his nipples, he gasped again.

"Why are your nipples so sensitive?"

"It's a side effect of the hormone therapy."

House had found that his nipples were ridiculously sensitive and sometimes painful since he started the hormone therapy.

They were swollen at one point - he was terrified he was going to develop 'man boobs.'

Fortunately, they didn't continue to swell and only the sensitivity and occasional pain remained.

"That's strange."

"It is." House would have to agree - it was definitely strange.

He wasn't about to tell her that he looked like he was developing 'man boobs' at one point.

Claudia draped her arm over Greg's and then they did nothing but lie there for awhile until they heard the door slide open.

It was Wilson.

Claudia thought about moving, but House didn't move his arm away from her, so she stayed put. After all, Wilson needed to see that he hadn't run her off.

"Uh...House, your CBC panel came back and you're cleared for chemo tomorrow."

Wilson looked so awkwardly uncomfortable that it was hilarious.

Claudia was struggling to contain her giggles.

"Well...I'll just let you get back to...it. See you later."

Wilson tucked tail and fled from the room.

He didn't talk to Claudia or address her at all. He seemed to pretend she wasn't there.

As soon as the door shut, Greg burst into laughter and Claudia followed.

Unfortunately, Greg's laughter didn't last long.

"Will you press the call button there?" He sounded pained. It was different, though. She had gotten to where she could read his pain levels fairly well.

Claudia was next the call button, so she pulled away to press it. He slowly pulled his hands away from her, so she guessed that was her cue to move. She casually stood up as she pressed it. She didn't need to stand up in order to reach it, but it worked to ease away from Greg. She knew that she would need to move if he needed medical attention, but didn't want to be really obvious about it.

The nurse came in, "What is it, Dr. House?"

"My lips are really dry around the ulcers. I laughed just now and it feels like they're going to crack or something. Isn't it almost time for the ointment?"

The nurse checked his chart.

"Ten more minutes, but I'll go ahead and apply it."

Claudia watched as the nurse washed her hands and gloved up.

Greg drank some water through a straw. She could tell he was placing the straw all the way back on his tongue. She assumed it was to bypass the sores.

The nurse gathered the ointment and some cotton swabs.

Just to be on the safe side, the nurse made sure he didn't want to try it himself.

"Did you want to try to apply it this time, or are you okay with me doing it? I can see the area much better."

Normally, House would have adamantly insisted that he do it himself, but he really couldn't see inside his mouth that well using a small mirror.

"You can just do it."

The nurse liberally applied a thick ointment to Greg's lips using a cotton swab. Once she finished there, Greg opened his mouth and she applied more there. Once the ointment was in place he left his mouth open as she closed the ointment and grabbed another bottle. This was a spray that she squirted into his mouth. She pulled his lips back and sprayed it on his gums and all surfaces.

This was obviously a well-practiced routine which actually made Claudia sad for him.

She had never seen this process. Thankfully, Casey had never gotten these awful sores.

The nurse threw the swabs away, made a note in his chart, and left the room.

He closed his mouth and lightly smacked his lips together.

"What is that stuff?"

Greg didn't answer for a moment. She actually thought he might not have heard her.

"Hels wih ha pain, bu makes my mouh inda numb."

Claudia couldn't help but laugh at his speech.

"Is nah funny!"

"I have to disagree. You sound ridiculous."

"oesn hur as much, so I don care."

"Makes the consonants difficult, huh?"

"Yes. You ever ried ooh alk wih numb ongue?"

"If I ever do, you are welcome to laugh."

Claudia finally got herself composed.

Greg appeared to pout, but she could tell it was fake and designed for comic effect.

"Casey is starting to do a lot better now and mentioned wanting to come see you. Would that be okay?"

That actually sounded nice.

"Jus ell him ooh wai a few days afer my hemo session oommorrow."

"Is it okay if I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, please ooh, I jus wanna look good when he sees me. Don wanna look epressing since he's abou oooh sar his own hemo before ooh long."

Claudia was grinning again.

"Wha?"

"It's funny!"

Claudia again composed herself, "It won't be anything new to him. He's been down this road before."

"Sill I wan oo-"

"I'll tell him to wait."

"Forunaely, hee numbness improos in abou an hour and is easier ooh alk. Sill helps wih he pain, ho"

"Okay. I need to go so that I can stop by the store and then get home."

She almost kissed his lips, but caught herself and moved to his forehead.

"Bye, Greg."

"eye, laudia."

"Wait, is Wilson going to sit with you during chemo tomorrow?"

"No. He has patients oomorrow. I'll be fine."

"I'm going to sit with you tomorrow morning."

She didn't even wait for a response, she just headed out the door.

Thanks for reading…reviews are like tasty food without the calories. I appreciate the response to this story!


	48. Session Two

(NOTE: Thanks for your patience! I'm really busy at work right now, so my writing has slowed a bit. I'm not going to quit, though!)

In some ways, House felt better and in other ways it was all just hellish.

Once Claudia left, House had a good deal of time to just think.

Chemotherapy had been six days ago and he couldn't believe he was about to do it again tomorrow. If his cancer wasn't so aggressive they might let him take it every three weeks, but he knew that they shouldn't wait.

The mouth sores were now on his tongue, gums, and lips. It hurt just to talk. Some also appeared as whitish yellow lesions.

The nurses applied a coating agent inside his mouth every time he ate. It served as protection from further damage and helped with the pain. His mouth was dry and he wasn't producing enough saliva, so the artificial coating helped with that as well.

They were also using a topical ointment just to help with pain, but it made him feel sort of numb and it made it even harder to talk. They could only apply it a few times a day and the relief didn't last the entire time between applications.

He could only eat really soft, bland, room temperature things, or it would be too painful. He had just eaten pureed boiled carrots and sipped broth through a straw.

He could tell they had added protein powder to the broth and it was horrendous. His sense of taste was so screwed that nothing really seemed right anyway. If it weren't for the color, he probably wouldn't have even known it was carrots.

They also had him eating baby food for nutrients. He was literally forcing himself to eat.

The nurses meticulously documented everything he ate. If he didn't eat to their satisfaction, he felt sure that Mathis and Wilson would be on him about it. He figured he had probably already lost weight.

He always used a straw because even water in his mouth was uncomfortable. They had him rinsing with a special solution, but other than that he always used the straw.

Even though he was receiving IV fluids through his central line, they continued to push him to consume fluids. They were constantly shoving juice and water at him.

All of this was so tedious.

The fluids made him constantly need the urinal and it drove him nuts.

He couldn't brush his teeth normally now because of the pain and the risk of injuring his sensitive mouth and causing bleeding. They gave him special foam swabs that he used several times a day to clean his teeth, mouth, and gums. It was disgusting.

At least the mouth sores were somewhat of a distraction from his nagging thigh and broken bones. They had been fighting for the spotlight for so long now. They were still in the lead, but his mouth was in the running as well now.

The physical and respiratory therapist were both still coming on alternating days. He saw one or the other every day.

The physio was working him really hard to avoid atrophy and it made him sore. You wouldn't think you could work a person very hard inside this sort of brace, but he was surprised how tiring all the muscle engagement exercises and upper body stuff was.

She now had him started on muscle engagement exercises on his right thigh. She had him 'activating' and 'engaging' the muscles inside of his brace. It made the bone hurt, but she said that the brace held the bone stable enough that he wasn't in any danger. It was weird that he wasn't even moving his leg, yet the workout felt so taxing.

He never thought being a hospital patient could feel so busy at times. Then, he would have long stretches with nothing to do. He felt too tired for reading or playing his Gameboy much of the time and just ended up listening to his Ipod or watching TV.

It had been about three weeks since his surgery.

He had a little more than two weeks of healing time before the chemo and a week since. They had just taken a new series of x-rays.

They could see definite improvement in the fractures throughout his right pelvis. Some looked better than others. There was some improvement in the fracture at the head of his femur. He couldn't see much difference in the femoral shaft fracture at his thigh, but Mathis said that there was improvement.

She was better at reading these things or she was a very good liar.

He was betting on the former, though. Mathis wasn't nearly enough fun to have developed such awesome lying skills.

There hadn't been enough time to see much change in his toes or foot.

Mathis was quite optimistic about it all - she was the orthopedic specialist, so House tried to believe her.

It was hard to be objective when he was the one injured and it was his body that was hurting. The pain wasn't as bad as at first, but it was still significant.

He had now made it past 3 weeks in the brace and it didn't seem as bad as at first.

If improvement continued, Mathis thought they might reach a point before long where the brace could be adjusted until his right leg didn't stick out quite as far. That didn't sound significant, but if they ordered a reclining wheelchair with a wide seat, he could actually get out of bed. He never thought being wheelchair bound would sound appealing, but it would be a heck of a lot better than being confined to this bed.

Over a week had passed since his fall and the bruises were now turning a spectacular array of colors. Despite his colorful appearance, his bruised right arm and torso weren't as painful.

HOUSE M.D.

The next morning he ate a light breakfast in preparation for the chemo.

Claudia tapped on the door and popped into the room. She kissed his forehead and plopped down in the chair next to the bed as if she belonged there. She'd been here so much that she kinda' did.

"Good morning."

"I'm not sure if it's 'good,' but it's definitely morning."

He wouldn't admit it, but he was glad someone was going to sit with him through chemo.

Wilson came in to check with House. You could tell just by looking at him that he was in a hurry.

"I have some appointments this morning, but Mathis will be coming by to talk to you at the start of your chemo. I know she wants to try cold therapy on your mouth. It's a good idea - give it a shot. I can't sit with you. Is she going to?"

Wilson indicated Claudia with a tilt of his head, but was addressing House.

"She's actually in the room. I suppose you could ask her." House was mocking Wilson with his tone.

Wilson turned to Claudia for an answer.

"Yes, I'm going to sit with him."

Wilson actually found himself grateful for Claudia's presence today. He had tried to adjust his schedule, but he just couldn't get everything moved today.

"I'm glad he won't be by himself." He actually met Claudia's eyes and directed this at her.

She gave him a short nod.

"Hang in there, House. If you have an emergency, page me. Okay?"

"Yes."

"Mathis will be by shortly."

Wilson hurried out in a flurry of white coat.

"Did he seem agitated?" Claudia was somewhat puzzled by Wilson's behavior.

"He's upset that he can't be here to sit with me. He's a control freak and he doesn't feel like my treatment is under control if he's not here to watch the meds travel into my central line."

Mathis entered at this point.

"Ready for chemo, Dr. House?"

"Bring on the poison."

"Same procedure as last week. Only change in procedure involves the mouth sores. Mouth sores and ulcers caused by chemotherapy usually reach their peak 6-8 days after treatment, so they're at their worst right now. You have another treatment today, so the sores may just get worse instead of improving. We're going to give you ice chips and a cold rinse to use for the first hour of today's treatment. This won't eliminate the effect the chemo has on the mouth, but it will hopefully keep your mouth from getting much worse. If the tissue was cold, in theory, it would be less likely to absorb as much of the medication. It works for some people, it doesn't for others."

Mathis had this way of informing you that you were about to be suffering that was almost funny.

Wilson would tell you things were about to get worse with sympathy, puppy-dog eyes, pats on the arm, etc.

Mathis told you like she was giving you boring data from an infomercial.

"I want you to go ahead and start sucking on the ice chips so that your mouth will be cold when we start. You will receive an anti-emetic before treatment just like last time. Any questions?"

"No."

"A nurse will be in shortly with the meds."

A nurse arrived carrying ice chips, something in an insulated cup, a basin, and a spoon.

"Go ahead and suck on the ice chips for now to get your mouth cold. The cold will probably be uncomfortable in your mouth, but it may help prevent the sores from getting worse."

House spooned several ice chips in his mouth and dutifully sucked on them for about ten minutes until the nurse returned. He had been using a straw lately because even just water stung his mouth. The ice chips were quite painful, but he wouldn't be doing anything that might allow the ulcerous sores to get worse.

She connected the meds to his central line and he was ready to go.

"Rinse your mouth with the solution every 10 minutes. After you rinse, spit in the basin. You can give yourself 2 minutes without ice, but then put ice chips in your mouth and keeping sucking on them again until it's time to rinse. Rinse, wait 2 minutes, suck on ice for 8 minutes, rinse, wait 2...you get the picture. It just repeats. You'll only have to do this for the first hour of treatment."

The nurse gave him a larger insulated cup with ice chips in it.

Claudia listened to his instructions as well. She wanted to be aware of everything going on.

Once the nurse left, Greg seemed to relax back onto the bed.

He did his first rinse and then spit the solution into the basin.

"You wanna' be my official mouth care timekeeper?" Greg was mocking the concept, but she could tell he was sincerely asking at the same time.

"Sure."

His speech was clear this morning, so it must have been quite a while since they put the ointment on his mouth.

"It's been 2 minutes."

Greg sighed, but spooned ice chips into his mouth and began sucking on them.

Eight minutes later she announced time to rinse.

The first hour was pretty uneventful. She announced times for him, but they didn't talk because he had ice in his mouth for the majority of the time.

The nurse came in to check on him, record vitals, and deliver fresh ice.

Once the initial hour was up, Greg seemed incredibly relieved.

She could tell that Greg's leg was particularly painful today, but he didn't say anything.

Claudia could tell he always had pain there, but from the set of his features and his body language, she could tell when it was worse.

When the pain was particularly bad, he also had this tendency to keep his right hand on the brace or hovering near his right thigh as if he could somehow protect it from the pain.

Today was one of those days where his hand was resting atop the brace on his right thigh.

He looked almost zoned out right now.

"Greg, you okay?"

"No, but I'm making it."

At least he was honest with her.

Casey had this habit of telling her that he was 'good' even if he wasn't. Based on his interactions with Wilson and his team of doctors, she could gather that Greg had the same tendency to always say he was 'fine' or 'good' even if he wasn't.

Greg always seemed to tell her the truth, though.

"Anything I can help with?"

He met her eyes at this point. His brilliant blue orbs were wracked with pain.

"Just...just, stay. Please."

"No problem."

Claudia gave his upper left arm a squeeze and rested her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

She noticed that Greg was starting to look really tense and was breaking out in a sweat.

From past experience, she knew that meant Greg was in a lot of pain.

His breathing was picking up, so she grabbed his left hand. His right hand was hovering over his right thigh as if he was trying to somehow fix the pain.

"Screw it! Press the call button."

(Thanks for reading! Reviews would be awesome!)


	49. Injections

(NOTE: Thank you for all of the reviews. I haven't responded to each individually, but know that I do read and appreciate every single one of them! I still don't own House, but without further ado…)

Claudia had pressed the call button, but the alarm on Greg's SAT monitor was already going off and nurses were running in.

"Get Mathis - I want an anesthetic injection. ASAP! Tell her to hurry!"

Greg was gasping and trying to talk to the nurses at the same time.

One of the nurses put in the page while the other got Greg set up with the oxygen cannula.

Thankfully, it didn't take Mathis long.

"Dr. House, have you decided to get the anesthetic injection?"

"Yes...thigh."

Mathis was already opening the brace at his thigh as the nurse got the injection ready.

"Change of pressure."

"Ouch ahhh. Hurry."

Once House knew the relief was coming, it only seemed more urgent.

"You're going to feel the prick. Dr. House, I need you to concentrate on breathing. Deep breathing...inhale...exhale...inhale..."

Mathis led him through breathing as she got ready to inject his hip as well. She thought about getting a nurse to do it, but she had been seeing Claudia around so much that she thought Claudia might appreciate an opportunity to help.

"Claudia, will you assist me with supporting him for a minute?"

In the past Wilson or a nurse did this, but Mathis thought this might actually be good.

"Sure."

Claudia was thrilled that Dr. Mathis had asked her to help. She felt totally helpless just watching Greg suffer.

"Grab a pillow and come around the side. Once I open the brace at his hip, he won't have near as much support. I need you to hold the pillow against his hip. You're just keeping him stable while I do the injection."

Mathis was an excellent multi-tasker. Offering an explanation to Claudia didn't take any extra time.

"Okay." Claudia was in position and ready to help.

"Ready for the hip, Dr. House?"

"Yeah."

Claudia carefully held the pillow as instructed and Dr. Mathis opened the brace at Greg's hip.

She hadn't seen Greg's hip incisions underneath the brace and she had to admit she was curious.

She now had a full view of the surgical site from his hip and pelvis. She was slightly appalled at the incisions she saw in the area. All of them were neatly sewn shut and looked tidy, but there were several large incisions and some smaller ones. The stitches were out, but it was still pretty gross.

Mathis injected his hip and closed the brace.

Even though his brace was closed, Claudia continued to hold him.

Dr. Mathis was using a long needle to carefully guide the medication into his foot through the end of his cast.

She had injected his thigh, hip, and foot.

Hopefully, this would give him a break from the pain.

She wasn't sure if he just wanted the thigh, but Mathis had injected each location.

Maybe Greg could actually relax for a little while if the pain wasn't as bad.

"It's helping."

"I want you to keep the oxygen on for a little while to get your SATs up again."

"Okay." Greg seemed totally worn out and resigned now.

"Your chemo is almost done. Try to get some rest."

Mathis made her exit and it was just House and Claudia again.

Greg was near tears as he looked at Claudia.

"I thought I would make it without the injections...I really did. This was like the straw the breaks the camel's back. I've still been feeling the effects of the last chemo. My whole body has been achy - originally I thought it was just from the fall, but I've found it's also from the chemo because it didn't improve when it should have if it was just the fall. My joints and muscles hurt. My mouth hurts...I just couldn't stand it anymore."

"My foot and hip hurt, but my thigh was just so bad today...I couldn't stand it."

Greg's hand was now laced in hers as she stroked him palm in a calming way.

"I'm not as strong as I thought."

Claudia thought he seemed disappointed with himself. He was being irrationally judgmental of himself.

"Hey, Greg?"

She waited for him to meet her eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting relief from pain. In fact, it's a perfectly rational desire.

"I'm just so tired."

Claudia gently run her hand along Greg's upper arm.

"Try to get some sleep."

"Hmmm."

Greg drifted off to sleep.

About half an hour later a nurse came and carefully removed the chemo bag and detached the line from one of the leads coming off Greg's central line.

He hadn't been drinking or eating well, so he still had clear fluids going in.

Claudia gave the nurse a soft smile as she left the room.

She was actually glad Greg had finally gotten the anesthetic injection. She knew he didn't want to get anything, but she thought he needed some relief for at least a little while.

Since the doctors started his chemo early this morning, it was only about noon.

Claudia decided to go ahead and sit with him until he woke up. She texted Casey just to check in and to let him know Greg's treatment was finished. She got an annoyed reply that he was perfectly fine and assumed that since Greg started his dose of chemo this morning, it would only be logical that he would finish the dose today as well. Casey was starting to get very annoyed with Claudia.

He was felling better and was reaching a point where he wanted to start college. She wanted him to get chemo out of the way first, but the doctors still wanted him to wait a bit after the surgery.

She suspected that they would end up starting early, though, or Casey would threaten to just not do it.

He was smart and wouldn't actually refuse, but he would threaten to serve his agenda.

She had brought her laptop, so she dove into her work to get some stuff done.

Based on his side effects from the last treatment, she knew they wouldn't wake him for lunch today. She thought he needed the sleep anyway.

HOUSE M.D.

The afternoon after House's second chemo treatment, Casey decided to visit him.

The anesthetic injections had just worn off and Greg felt like he was in Hell.

He was exhausted, felt overly warm, his mouth was burning, his broken bones hurt, and his thigh was absolutely throbbing.

He had a cool, damp towel draped across his forehead and was attempting to keep his breathing even. His right leg was propped up, but House was sitting up quite a bit more than the last time Casey saw him.

Dr. Mathis had him lying on his back with his leg totally propped up at night, but he was allowed to sit up as much as the brace would allow during the day.

Casey still wasn't allowed to drive, so Claudia dropped him off before taking a trip to the store.

He hadn't seen Greg since he left the hospital himself, so he had absolutely no idea how he was doing other than Claudia's comments.

Since he had gone through cancer and chemo himself, he knew Greg would probably be feeling cruddy.

Greg was expecting Claudia to show up anytime now. When he heard a knock on the door he expected it to be her, but the knock was too loud to be her.

Once Greg looked his way, Casey entered.

"Hey, Greg."

"Casey."

Casey really did look good.

Greg didn't.

"You look...sick."

"Gee, thanks."

Greg was actually quite pleased that Casey was honest with him. He knew he looked like crud and didn't want to hear otherwise.

Some people came in and told him he look 'good' when he knew him didn't look 'good' at all.

"Anytime." Casey was quite mocking as he accepted his thanks.

He sat down in the chair so that he was facing Greg.

"Where's Claudia?"

Casey knew this question would come.

"She went to the store to buy clothes and stuff - or at least try them on. Often she tries clothes on for hours and only buys like one thing. She hates shopping for clothes and is entirely too picky."

Greg had noticed before that Claudia dressed stylishly, but didn't draw attention to clothing or accessories. She dressed nice, but wasn't a fashion diva.

"What have you been doing?" House really did wonder what Casey had been doing.

Normally he didn't ask people conversational questions, but he seriously wanted to know.

"At first - a lot of sleeping and a lot of TV."

"Now?"

"I'm getting applications in. I want to go to Princeton. Claudia will be worried, but I just need to get a round of chemo over with and then I'll be good to go."

"So, she doesn't know."

"I alluded to college in the past, but she doesn't know - and it better stay that way."

"I get it."

House and Casey just sat for a minute.

"Not gonna criticize me or poll me with questions?"

"Nope - you've got every right to screw up your own life - or earn a college degree. Your choice."

Casey abruptly changed subjects, "You see the latest monster truck rally?"

"Yeah. Just because Gravedigger lost this time does not mean-"

"Oh YES it does!"

"Shut up! Gravedigger has been..."

House and Casey launched into a classic argument over the merits of various monster trucks.

All talk of illness was left behind for a pleasant chat between friends.

(Thanks for reading – reviews inspire me!)


	50. Results

(Note: I still don't own House. Thank you to everyone who is still following the story! A new chapter for you...I'll try to get another up mid-week or so.)

Another week went by fairly uneventfully.

Wilson visited, the team came for consults, Claudia came to see him every day, and he continued physical and respiratory therapy.

Casey came by to see him a couple of times. One of those times Casey had gone in to see Wilson. House suspected that Casey's chemo was scheduled, but Casey hadn't mentioned it and he hadn't asked.

He found that his pain was gradually getting better. He was still very uncomfortable, but the pain from the broken bones was quite a bit better. He knew some of it was due to the continuing effects of the hormone therapy, but he was also gradually starting to heal. The rate was slow, but anything was better than nothing.

His mouth sores didn't go away, but they didn't get any worse, either. Mathis said that could be considered successful treatment.

There were many foods he couldn't eat - nothing salty, spicy, warm, or tasty at all. He couldn't have anything sharp like chips or pretzels or anything that required much chewing. He also couldn't eat anything hot - he had to wait for anything to cool to room temperature or it would be very painful. He still used a straw placed far back on his tongue to keep liquids from having unnecessary contact with his tongue, lips, or the inside of his mouth.

He had his third session of chemo two days ago and he was still feeling miserably fatigued and slightly dizzy. He didn't bother mentioning the dizziness to Mathis or Wilson, though. He was slightly anemic and was somewhat short of breath at times, but he was definitely holding his own right now. They were still pumping him full of fluids.

He was getting a lot better at lying on his side. He let the nurses totally turn him still - he definitely didn't feel strong enough to try helping again. That was a dismal failure the first time when he fell out of bed.

It felt decent enough to lie on his side that he would occasionally ask to be put on his side just for a change of position if he was feeling stiff or was desperate to move.

His femoral shaft fracture and foot were still especially painful, but he was starting to feel a lot of improvement in his hip and pelvis area. The last x-rays didn't show as much improvement at the head of the femur, but there was still some.

Today he would be getting x-rays to determine if his brace could be adjusted to allow for possible wheelchair use.

He was a little over 5 weeks post-op and was desperately hoping for enough improvement to adjust the brace so that he could get out of bed. He femoral shaft fracture and foot weren't a factor in the determination, but his hip and pelvis were very important here.

The x-rays were already taken and he was awaiting a verdict from Mathis.

"Hello, Dr. House."

"What did you find out?"

"Still not great, but your hip and pelvis look a lot better."

"Femur?"

"Still got a ways to go there. Your hip and pelvis are by no means healed, but there is enough improvement for us to safely adjust your position. The bone erosion from the tumor is still a major issue, but the actual fractures are showing a good deal of improvement. We'll still leave your leg turned out, but we'll shift your leg so that it isn't as far out to the side."

"It needs to stay turned out anyway because if it has to stay still that's probably the best position for my bad thigh." House agreed with her assessment.

"That's what I figured as well. We'll get a brace tech over to help and get you adjusted later today. There will be a good deal of discomfort for a while after the adjustment, but it's the best option if you want to get out of bed."

House knew that 'a good deal of discomfort' could be translated to 'hurt like bloody murder,' but he didn't care.

"Okay."

"Keep in mind that we could leave you in the current position for as long as we need to for it to heal. We don't have to adjust in the interest of healing. The only advantage of adjusting is that you might be able to get out of bed and you might be a bit more comfortable once the pain from the adjustment wears off. There is little risk in shifting you, but it might be uncomfortable for a while."

"I want the adjustment - I want out of this bed."

"It's your choice."

Why did Mathis seem reluctant now? He thought about asking to see the X-Rays, but he didn't really want to look at them now and he had already decided on the adjustment anyway.

"Very good news is that there is no regrowth of the tumor in your pelvic girdle that we can see in the X-Ray. It is harder to tell on your femur, but Dr. Wilson and I don't believe that there is regrowth there either. Now, I can almost guarantee that there are still some errant cells lurking there - the chemo should help with those and possibly radiation later on. After your next chemo treatment we'll probably do a bone scan to get a more precise reading on that. There could definitely be something there that the x-rays aren't picking up."

It was odd that House hadn't even thought to ask about bone metastases. He was so busy thinking about getting out of bed that it hadn't crossed his mind.

This was good, but he didn't really feel much reaction, so he just gave Mathis a short nod to indicate that he had heard her.

"I'll be by with a brace tech later today."

Dr. Mathis made a note in his chart and left the room.

The nurses came by to turn him to his side. Originally he thought they might skip it since his brace was getting adjusted later, but obviously not.

It was still a big production to turn him, but wasn't as bad as it had been at first.

He was still on his side when Claudia came by.

"Hey."

"Claudia."

She leaned forward and gave him a peck on his forehead and then his temple. He ran his hand over her cheek, but couldn't kiss her back at all. She noticed his lips still looked horrible, but they didn't look worse.

He had mentioned infection risk, so she found herself constantly watching him for worsening symptoms.

When Casey got a runny nose during his treatment last time, he ended up in the emergency room because of how sick he got. It was just a cold, but he couldn't fight it off quickly enough.

She pulled a chair around to sit facing him since he was on his side and couldn't turn his head well.

House reached for her hand with his right hand. It was hard for him to use his left arm when he was positioned on his side.

She held his hand right hand and ran her hand over his left as well even though he had his left arm wrapped around a pillow. He smiled softly at the contact.

She never saw Wilson or his fellows touch him, but she had discovered that Greg was actually quite tactile. She had never seen him try to make physical contact with anyone besides her. She figured that must mean he trusted her.

Now that he had the central line, he didn't have an IV in either hand. He still had bruises on his hand, but he didn't have the IV line in her way.

"What was the consensus on the x-rays?"

She knew he was having x-rays earlier that day to check the broken bones.

"Getting my brace adjusted later today."

"Great! So all the bones are healing?"

"Pelvis, hip, and some at the head of the femur, but not as much improvement on my femoral shaft fracture or my foot and toes."

"But they can still adjust it, right?"

"Yeah, the femoral shaft fracture and the foot aren't really a factor in whether or not they can adjust the brace. I was just positioned this awkwardly because of the pelvis and hip."

"Some improvement is better than no improvement, right?"

"Yeah." Greg seemed depressed as he thought about this, but was trying not to show it.

He looked away from her.

"Hey..." Claudia waited for Greg to meet her eyes.

"You just have to be patient."

Greg glanced down away from her eyes.

"Yeah."

He didn't sound sincere.

Claudia ran her hand through his hair. She was somewhat surprised to find a small tuft of hair in her hand afterwards.

She shouldn't have been surprised because the timing was about right for him to start losing hair, but she was still caught a bit off guard.

"Yep. My hair is falling out now." He seemed to always read her mind.

"It's okay."

"You gonna go ahead and tell me I'll look great with no hair?"

She puckered her face up and pretended to contemplate the matter. "You might be cute without hair."

She pulled a comical facial expression at him.

"I am not going to be 'cute' no matter what happens!"

She drew a laugh out of him there.

There was a tap on the door and the nurses came traipsing in to turn him. Claudia stepped back so that she wouldn't be in the way, but not before giving Greg's hand a reassuring squeeze.

House found lying on his side fairly comfortable, but the turning always hurt.

Some of the pain had a lot to do with blood flow as his right leg was shifted. The artery damage and repair that they did there made the blood flow in his thigh even weirder than it had been.

They had conducted a couple of angiograms since his surgery. Hauling him to radiology to get the angiograms done and then the procedure itself was quite a production, but they had to monitor everything closely.

They used his femoral vein, which could be accessed fairly easily in his brace. The brace was thankfully made from a material that allowed for good imaging studies. The angiograms were far from pleasant.

The artery they repaired was healing up fairly nicely, but the blood flow wasn't quite normal and it hurt when the blood reperfused after shifting a large amount at a time.

They hadn't done an angiogram in a while now and he hoped to keep it that way. He was a doctor and knew that these feelings were normal between the damage caused by the infarction and then the additional artery repair.

Turning didn't hurt his hip as much, but that seemed to only draw more of his attention to the pain in his right leg.

Claudia heard a series of grunts from Greg as the nurses turned him, but other than that he was quiet. She watched as one nurse held his leg and another repositioned the pillows his leg rested on. She nurse gently lowered the back on the pillows as Greg exhaled.

"Dr. House, is that okay?"

Greg nodded with a gulp and the nurses adjusted the rails of his bed before letting go and leaving the room.

Claudia had no idea what the pain felt like after being turned, but she did know to give him some space to breathe through it.

She did notice it didn't take near as long as it used to for Greg to relax and interact with her again after the turning. She figured the pain must not be as bad these days as he recovered from it quicker.

"I'm okay." Judging from his tone, Greg must have seen her staring at him.

"Come here...please?" Greg usually wasn't much for saying 'please,' but he could be very loving and gentle at times - usually when she was the only other person in the room.

She started to pull a chair up, but he patted the side of the bed to his left and she eased herself down next to him.

His brilliant blue eyes were locked on hers as he reached up and ran his hand along the side of her face and then down her neck to caress her clavicle.

The spell was broken as his phone started to ring. It was a generic ringtone - so she knew that it wasn't someone he knew well. People he knew well had customized ringtones. Wilson was 'Dancing Queen,' Cuddy was the theme song from 'Jaws,' Taub was some strange Jewish song, etc.

She vaguely wondered what his ring tone was for her.

"Will you hand that to me?"

Claudia grabbed the phone and passed it to him.

He answered it without even checking the caller ID. She had noticed before that he usually didn't check because that involved digging out his glasses.

Occasionally he'd hold it up to her and ask her to look at who it was, but he didn't this time.

He rarely asked her to do anything for him, but she wouldn't have minded.

He didn't get that, though. He just viewed asking for things as a weakness or an action that turned him into some sort of burden to her. For someone so smart, he could be incredibly dense when it came to emotions or people's feelings toward him.

"House."


	51. The Phone Call

Greg answered the phone with his usual abrupt growl. With the generic ringtone, she had no idea who it was.

He never answered that way to her calls, but every other call she had seen him answer received that greeting - except for Wilson on occasion.

It usually turned out that he wanted something from Wilson in those cases.

"Mom?" He sounded alarmed.

Claudia instantly perked up. She had never heard Greg talk about his parents and they certainly hadn't come around to see him during.

"Oh. Well, I've been really busy these days and I'm not really sure I can find the time."

Claudia listened with rapt attention to one side of the conversation.

"Uuummm, hard to say."

...

"I'm just a very busy person."

She could tell Greg was actually trying to be polite.

"Yeah. You do that."

...

"Bye, Mom."

Greg sighed loudly.

Claudia thought about asking what was up, but she decided to wait him out instead of asking.

"That was my mom."

She thought about making a sarcastic comment about how the conversation gave that away, but he looked too serious for teasing right now.

Claudia had no idea how to react. Greg had never mentioned his mom, so she had absolutely no idea what their relationship was like. She could now safely assume that his mom was alive, but other than that...

"She wants to come see me."

"Well, she's probably concerned about your health."

That seemed rational to Claudia.

"She doesn't know I'm sick."

Greg looked down at his leg, which was still angled way out to the side and propped up on pillows. She knew his leg was going to be repositioned later today, but she had no idea how that would turn out except that Greg hoped to be able to get out of bed.

She figured he might be able to use a wheelchair, but seriously doubted they'd be getting him up on crutches or a walker.

Greg hadn't mentioned anything along those lines.

She was so busy looking at Greg that she was slow processing what he just said.

"She doesn't know?"

Greg flinched.

She had just yelled...probably a bit of an overreaction.

Even though she wasn't close to her parents and they were totally freaked out by illness, they still got updates on Casey's condition and called to talk to him. They all exchanged emails.

He was just staring at the ceiling now and resting his right hand on the brace. He had his hand there ever since he was turned.

She knew he hadn't had any injections since the second chemo session over a week ago.

She had sat with him during his third chemo treatment as well. He actually seemed sicker, but didn't appear to have as much pain in his hip or leg. Despite the anti-emetic, he vomited several times during the third session and had to have several doses of anti-emetic later.

Claudia could understand why he wanted out of bed so desperately, but she almost wandered if it would be so painful that he might not even be able to enjoy it.

"I didn't want to listen to her cry and then come flying here freaking out over me and trying to coddle me. I'm having enough trouble dealing with this without having to deal with her trying to deal with this. I can't even keep up with my own _emotional health _right now – let alone try to take care of her when she goes off the deep end."

Greg was highly sarcastic on the words 'emotional health' but she could tell he was honestly concerned.

Claudia just reached for his hand and gave him what she hoped would be a comforting squeeze.

Greg had moved his right hand from his thigh and was now rubbing it along his torso feeling the hard brace across his abdomen.

"I don't think I can deal with her right now. She hasn't always been particularly emotional, but ever since her husband died, she turns into a basket case at the slightest provocation. Every once in a while she gets this abrupt and passionate desire to see me. She becomes obsessed! I should have known it was about time for her to get the urge to see me. Usually I can satisfy her by spending an evening with her or even just having lunch with her in the cafeteria. Once she lays eyes on me like this, I'll never get rid of her."

He reached up to touch his lips, but stopped about an inch away and put his hand down again. He never touched his lips. The doctors and nurses didn't touch him in any way without gloves on. She always scrubbed her own hands before so much as touching his hand, per nurse's orders. Claudia wasn't able to touch or kiss his mouth or even anywhere near it.

She felt sure Greg was processing how his mother would react to every aspect of his body - including his ulcerous mouth.

He had his ointment treatments scheduled out to times of the day that nurses and occasionally Wilson or Claudia were the only people who ever heard him when he could only mumble fairly incoherently. He obviously didn't want his employees to see and hear him like that. Claudia had seen the nurses spray his mouth repeatedly, but it seemed that the ointment was the only thing that totally numbed his tongue. He usually talked slower now and sounded somewhat mumbled, but Claudia didn't notice anymore. A mother surely would notice right away, though. The only reason she didn't notice anymore was because she saw him every day - sometimes she saw him twice a day.

"By the time she gets here, my brace will be adjusted...I could hide the cancer from her. I still have most of my hair - if I convince her to come right away she won't know I'm losing it. Only problem there is my mouth. I could tell her it's a side effect of some pain med I'm taking. She knows I can't have narcotics anymore - except I can never seem to lie to her. Maybe I could convince Wilson to lie to her...or I could just tell her I'm gone to a conference..."

Claudia didn't even know how to respond to any of this, so she just sat there as he proceeded to run a verbal differential with himself.

"Then she'd want to know where the conference was and when I'd be back…or if she could visit me at the conference. I could tell her I'm on sabbatical in Europe or something...except she loves Europe and would want to see me even more.

Sabbatical in a third world country...that might work. Problem is I can't lie to the woman...she's like a freakin' lie detector! Maybe I could send her a telegram or something! I don't know what to do...ow."

He was talking quickly now and was getting animated. It was probably too much.

She knew from his expression that this was mouth pain. He reached for the call button and a nurse arrived in no time.

The nurse could apparently read him pretty well by now, too. This was the daytime nurse that treated him most of the time.

"Do you need some spray in your mouth?"

He just nodded.

She washed and gloved up before getting the spray off of his bedside table.

After she finished spraying the inside of his mouth and dabbed the extra that was running out of his mouth away, she used a cotton swab to spread an ointment over his lips.

Claudia had learned that this wasn't the same as the numbing ointment. This stuff prevented dryness and cracking, thus helping with pain.

"Is that better, Dr. House?"

"Yes. Thanks."

Claudia had noticed that Greg had gotten nicer to the nurses as time went on. They still always called him 'Dr. House' and never 'Greg.'

She figured the whole title thing was because they knew him and worked with him before he was hospitalized.

Little did she know that he had been notoriously abrupt, grouchy, or even downright mean to nurses, but was now developing a new respect for them.

Initially, the nurses seemed to tiptoe around him like they were walking on eggshells, but now they didn't seem nervous or hesitant around him.

He had been in the hospital for about 5 weeks after all.

"Maybe when they adjust the brace I can go outside."

He had abruptly changed gears.

It seemed like Greg was also thinking about how long he'd been here. He was looking out the window and sounded almost wistful.

She really didn't know what to say to that - she had no idea what restrictions he would have. She didn't want to discourage him if he would indeed be able to go outside. She also didn't want to tell him that sounded great and then find out they wouldn't allow him to go outside.

After Casey's treatment he had to stay away from large groups of people or situations where he might be exposed to excessive germs. For all she knew, Greg might not be allowed off the floor.

She figured she would keep quiet and let his monologue of running thoughts continue.


	52. Femoral Shaft Fracture

(NOTE: This next chapter is fairly medical, but there is still a lot of House/Claudia. The chapter is more about the emotional response events elicit. A nice long one for Saturday morning!)

There was a quick knock on the door and then a man Claudia had never seen before entered.

He was carrying a folder of what appeared to be x-rays.

"Hello, Dr. House."

Greg just nodded at the guy.

He turned to Claudia.

"Hi, my names Pete. I'm the orthopedic devices tech in charge of Dr. House's case."

"Claudia."

Pete seemed to be waiting for more, so she hesitantly added, "The Girlfriend."

They had never referred to each other with any definite term like 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend.' She considered him her boyfriend, though, so she threw it out there.

She was checking Greg's reaction in her peripheral vision. She thought she saw his eyes light up just a bit. She knew he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Pete seemed to move right along as if this wasn't a huge moment in their relationship. For them, it was like an acknowledgement that they were together.

Claudia had never met Pete, but he had come by a few times to monitor Greg's brace.

Pete had just come back from washing and gloving up. Greg abruptly zoned back in on the task at hand and looked away from Claudia.

"I'm going to check you some and look at the scans. I've already been through your chart. Okay?"

"Yeah."

Pete was now running his gloved hand along the edges of the brace at House's torso. He was sticking a finger inside the top of the brace in several places.

"Is the brace affecting your breathing?"

"No."

"I noticed from your chart that you've lost a pretty good bit of weight?"

"Joys of chemo." Greg was very sarcastic and getting grouchy.

She knew Greg hated being examined by medical personnel - she figured it had something to do with being a doctor.

It wasn't that he didn't like to be touched. She was constantly touching all over his chest. Of course, she never stuck a hand in his brace, but...

"I can really tell around your torso. The brace is on the verge of getting too loose here. If it gets too loose, it could become uncomfortable-"

"It already is uncomfortable." Greg interrupted in a less than pleasant voice.

This was the first time in a while that Claudia had heard Greg openly declare how uncomfortable he was. He usually was a suck-it-up and bear it kind of guy.

"I don't want to change the actual brace on your torso because hopefully you'll gain some of that weight back. I think it would be a good idea to add some extra padding, though." Pete apparently ignored that last comment from Greg.

"How 'bout we just remove the torso part or shorten it to just over my hip?"

House had a pretty good idea that this wouldn't fly, but he figured he'd throw it out.

"From what Dr. Mathis said, you still need a lot of stability - especially for that femur. If we're going to even think about letting you out of that bed, you're keeping the brace all the way up your torso."

House was less than thrilled. He had been contemplating suggesting they shorten the torso part, but it was apparently in vain. He hadn't seen the latest set of x-rays, though. Mathis hadn't offered them up right away like she normally did. He could have asked, but he was too excited about the prospect of getting out of bed. He figured he'd look at them here in a minute."

"You don't have any blistering around the edge of the brace. That's good."

"You been havin' a positivity pow-wow with Mathis?"

Pete was stoically ignoring House's jabs. Although it sounded pessimistic, Claudia was somewhat amused by Greg's interactions with Pete.

"Have you been sweating a lot?"

"Yes. Pain in general makes me sweat sometimes. I have gotten periods of excessive heat and chills during and after chemo."

"I want to change out the padding around your torso completely when we open the brace up. We can also use a rag to wipe your skin down some - that might make you a little more comfortable."

House wasn't going to show it, but the prospect of felling a bit cleaner sounded awesome.

"I need to look at your back. Claudia, could you come here a moment."

Pete often asked a patient's spouse to help if they were present. For one, patients often preferred a loved one touching them over a nurse, and it was important that the family member be a part of the process. Orthopedic devices often affect other people besides just the person wearing them.

Pete figured that if Dr. House used to sleep in the same bed as his girlfriend, he couldn't imagine how difficult his situation would be for both of them. The brace wasn't exactly made for cuddling and it certainly wasn't made for sex. Of course, Dr. House's condition made sex unadvisable anyway, but still it would be hard for them to even get close to one another. Pete saw Greg's lips and knew that kissing was totally out of the question.

Pete had no idea that Claudia and House hadn't met until he was in the hospital.

"Sure."

Greg seemed hesitant that she be involved, but Claudia really wanted to help.

"Dr. House, I'm going to recline the head of the bed, but I want you to stay at the same angle as you are now. Put your arms behind you to support yourself.

Claudia, just spot him to make sure he doesn't start leaning back or anything. Put your arm here just in case."

Pete guided Claudia's hand until it was resting at the middle of Greg's upper back.

Pete was now running his hand along inside the edge of the brace at his back. Pete was also feeling along the muscles at the back of Greg's shoulders and along the top of his spine.

"They're doing a good job keeping your upper body in shape. The musculature feels pretty good back here."

Claudia had to agree. His muscles were so sexy. He doubted Pete was making this comment because Greg's muscles looked hot, but…

"I'm going to bring the head of the bed up now."

Pete operated the controls.

"You can move your arms now, Dr. House."

Pete replaced Claudia's hand with his own as the bed returned to its original position and he eased Greg back onto the bed.

"You okay, Dr. House?"

He just nodded.

"I'm going to move on to your left leg."

"Great narration." He was sarcastic.

Pete totally ignored Greg's comments. He was probably used to patients being grouchy or miserable.

Very few people like to be confined in the kind of devices Pete applied for a living.

"You're left leg looks fine - no rash at the edge of the brace. Any rash problems from the chemo?"

"Only at the very beginning, but that went away."

"Good. I can tell you've lost some weight here, too - especially at the inner thigh."

Pete was also easing his hand along Greg's thigh under the edge of the brace.

"You musculature feels pretty decent under here - you must have a really good physical therapist working with you.

Pete was now checking Greg's knee even though the brace ended significantly above it.

"Blood flow is not affected. Capillary refill is good at the foot. Pulse is fine. I would have liked to check your right foot for this, but the plaster is in the way."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious!"

"Mathis will be leaving the hard cast on for a while - she doesn't want to risk changing it until she's sure the bones won't shift. At some point she might be able to change it to a more comfortable boot, though."

"No point in a boot - not like I'm going to be walking any time soon."

"Might be more comfortable."

Pete checked the area at the very top of Greg's cast where it met the brace. He pulled a pillow out so that he could check the underside of the leg without having to move it.

Claudia was watching Pete's face for reactions. He didn't seem concerned with anything. She had learned through Casey's illness that you could often get more information from the facial expressions and reactions of medical personnel than things they actually said.

Even though it wasn't part of the brace, Pete still ran his hands along House's plaster cast and checked it for any shape problems or weak spots. He knew it wasn't likely since the only movement Greg got was controlled and carefully monitored by nurses and therapists.

Pete moved on and unceremoniously removed the towel from Greg's groin without warning.

Apparently Pete figured it didn't matter since the blinds were closed and Claudia was the only other person in the room.

"I'm moving onto your groin now."

Talk about closing the gate once the horse was gone.

"Looks pretty good down here. I read in the file that you had a bout of explosive diarrhea after the third chemo session a couple of days ago. Is that over now?"

Why did medical personnel feel so comfortable talking about this?

You'd think he had just mentioned the weather.

He was the same with his own patients...but now that he was the one in the bed with Claudia standing by...

Greg was getting red and embarrassed now.

Claudia didn't know about the 'explosive diarrhea.' She wasn't around when those events occurred.

"Stools have been fine since those incidents."

"Did they give you some protection for the brace after the first episode?"

"Yes."

"They need to do that for your next chemo session as well just in case."

Greg's voice was completely neutral and monotone as he answered these questions.

"It looks your skin has been kept clean after bowel movements and urination. Looks good."

He was wiping himself now when he went to the bathroom. He still had trouble seeing what he was doing, but he had good spacial awareness. There was something about wiping your own butt that actually felt empowering. Gosh, that sounded pathetic.

"No problems around the edge of the brace down here. It's going to be a bit tricky, but I would like to change the padding down here as well - if nothing else that should help you feel more comfortable. I can also compensate for the weight loss with padding. Not perfect, but hopefully you can gain the weight back and we'll just remove the extra padding."

Pete was obnoxiously pleasant. It sounded more like he was talking about upholstering a sofa.

"You sure are a creature of optimism - you do realize I have cancer and have more chemo and other treatments to go, right?"

"Of course. I've read your chart."

He covered Greg's groin and moved to the light board to look at the X-Rays. The light boards in the orthopedic ward were large because of the nature of the injuries many patients were recovering from.

"The last modification we made was to cut the lower leg of the brace to allow for application of the plaster cast."

Pete seemed to just be talking to himself.

"Ah yes, the pelvis looks a decent bit better. In other circumstances it would show greater improvement, but considering your advanced age, cancer, chemo, and other broken bones that your body is trying to heal right now, I'd say this is pretty good. Bone erosion is still a problem, but you're stable enough to make an adjustment in your brace."

Claudia didn't particularly perceived Greg as having an 'advanced age!'

Greg looked mortified.

Claudia thought Pete could use some sensitivity training.

"Hand 'em over."

House was curt and abrupt as he requested the films.

"Certainly." Gosh the man was cheery - Pete handed one to him and set the others in a stack on the bed as he finished looking at them himself.

Claudia handed Greg his glasses without even having to be asked and received a slight nod of thanks.

House was now going through the scans...he supposed this was pretty good progress. The fractures in his pelvis were still glaringly obvious and definitely were not finished healing, but they were on their way there and were starting to look more stable.

The head of his femur looked less than fabulous - there wasn't much improvement there. He knew this was a slow area to heal anyway...

Pete was looking at Greg now.

"We're definitely going to have to be careful as we adjust because of the head of your femur. If we go slow and have adequate help and support for you, you won't be in any danger."

House just nodded at this and gave the scans back.

Pete handed him the scans of his foot and toes and he flipped through those as well. There was a bit of fracture callus forming, but he definitely would have liked to see more progress.

"I don't know if Mathis has mentioned it, but the compromised circulation in your right leg because of the infarction is a concern on healing rate. In normal situations, such as the function of your lower leg before the injury, the circulation had been fine, but the healing is affected. The artery repair could also impact blood flow. We checked carefully and the brace and cast aren't impacting the circulation at all. It's just the way your leg is."

House knew his circulation wasn't perfect there, but he hadn't really thought about it in relation to healing.

The pain in his foot was improving faster than the pain in his upper leg, so he wanted to get a look at those films.

He traded that set of films with Pete to get the films of his femoral shaft fracture.

Pete started talking as Greg looked at these, "It's still aligned well. The surgical open reduction worked; there just isn't a lot of healing yet. If you look there, you can see a tiny bit of fracture callus forming."

House looked hard and could only see it if he enhanced the area a bit with his imagination. He wasn't sure there was anything there except excessive optimism on Pete's part.

"That's progress. It shouldn't require any more surgical intervention. I'm not at all worried about non-union yet."

Pete sounded cheerful.

Greg's expression was broody.

As a physician House knew that fractures of the femur usually took between 3 and 10 months on average to heal completely depending upon multiple factors. He shouldn't be so upset because it had only been a little over 5 weeks, but he wanted to see improvement.

He didn't want to think about 'on average.' He knew his was not an 'average' fracture and he was not in the 'average' situation, but he wanted this healed, the pain gone, and out of the damn brace as quickly as possible.

The chemo treatments would be a lot more bearable if he could do them as an outpatient and then go home to his own bed in his own apartment.

House had always been good at things. For some reason he thought that his body would be 'good' at healing femoral shaft fractures as well. (He was just leaving out the fact that he was now good in the area of intellectual accomplishment and not physical strength or health)

"We definitely need to keep that fully braced as we adjust you today. I'm not going to change any padding there. Since you have no internal fixation, we could risk the bone shifting."

Instead of handing these films back as he had the other sets, Greg just dropped these off the side of the bed and onto the floor.

"No wonder it still hurts so much worse than my pelvis." Greg looked downright angry.

Rationally, he knew that he should probably be pleased that the femur was still aligned and not be so upset about the lack of progress; however, his emotions did not agree with his rational mind.

Given the situation, his pelvis looked remarkably good. He still had a tremendous amount of healing to go there, but just the fact the Mathis was willing to adjust his brace was huge.

In his current mood, he could not see that positive aspect.

He felt angry and emotional - he knew that his emotions might be a bit off because of the hormone treatments, but he should be able to control this.

Claudia wasn't totally sure she understood all this. Pete seemed optimistic about the fracture...she thought fracture callus was a good thing.

So, what was the problem?

Pete looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do.

"I'm going to call my assistant so we can get ready to adjust your brace. We'll talk to Dr. Mathis and be back in a bit."

Pete gathered the films off the floor and fled the room.

House balled his fist and felt a sudden urge to punch his thigh, but that would be ridiculous...and painful.

He wanted to beat the bloody heck out of something, though, and his thigh seemed like the best target.

Sure, the brace would sort of protect it, but not from the pain and potential damage from the impact of his fist.

Claudia had absolutely no idea what she should do. Greg always seemed to respond to touch, so she reached for his hand.

He jerked it away from her and crossed his arms over his chest. She noticed him jerk and wince when he apparently jabbed his arm into where his central line exited his chest, but he quickly settled his arm anyway.

Claudia was still there looking at him. He didn't want to meet her eyes. He would probably see pity and disappointment. When he felt her touch his hand, he jerked his hand and crossed both arms violently over his chest.

He forgot about his central line though and gave it a good whack that was quite painful. The site didn't hurt anymore except if pressure was put on it and he had just put a whopping amount of pressure on it.

Between the pain he caused himself and his disappointment, he want to curl up and cry. Of course, he couldn't curl up at all and he didn't want Claudia to see him cry.

"Greg..." Claudia figured she was about to be asked to leave.

"You should go."

Just as she suspected he would react.

Claudia headed for her purse.

House assumed she was leaving, but she grabbed her laptop and turned back with a defiant expression on her face. She plunked herself in the chair next to his bed and proceeded to start up her laptop. She was soon typing away and ignoring his steely glares.

She obviously wasn't packing up to leave.

Great.

(Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated and inspire me to post fast)


	53. Adjustments

Greg continued to sullenly glare at the ceiling as Claudia worked on her laptop next to his bed.

After about 30 minutes, Claudia broke the silence.

"I'm ready to talk whenever you are."

She sounded pleasant, but there was a stubborn, blunt undertone.

House's mind was on overdrive like a hamster in a runaway wheel.

His femur barely showed any change after 5 weeks! There was just a bit of healing that he wasn't even sure was actually there...how was he possibly supposed to be optimistic, or talkative, about this?

Pete and Mathis were both optimistic, but he was feeling like crud...not to mention his 'advanced age' as Pete so tactfully put it.

He was previously pumped full of endorphins from the exciting prospect of getting out of this damn bed, but what was the point now?

He felt deflated. Without the excitement, the pain and fatigue came rushing back.

Is this what people always talked about when it came to positive attitude and healing?

It was all just a chemical reaction. Didn't they know this?

Ya' feel happy and positive - it's called endorphins. Eventually they wear off and you're back where you started.

Damn leg!

He stared at the deformed log that was his leg. Yeah...everything was all nice and aligned inside that shell...but he was still missing a huge hunk of muscle and the damn fracture wasn't healing!

"It sounds like they're still planning to adjust your brace today. Maybe you can get out of bed...we could go outside?"

Claudia wasn't sure of this, but he needed to hear something reassuring from her.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by Claudia's words.

_WE? _

She wasn't going anywhere?

The fury pumping through his body started to fizzle out.

She wasn't going to abandon his crippled butt here in the hospital?

House felt a sudden desire to embrace Claudia. He reached for her hand. Once he caught it, he slowly pulled her out of the chair.

Claudia was surprised when Greg's hand darted out to seek hers. She met his hand as he pulled her towards himself. She quickly deposited the laptop on the chair and stood up.

He pulled her right up to the edge of the bed and she perched next to him. He pulled his hand out of hers but used it to reach behind her back and pull her closer.

She wasn't in a good position, so she tucked one knee under her and allowed herself to be drawn in.

She leaned in and tucked her hands around his shoulders to give him a gentle hug.

"Do you care if I have to use a wheelchair for a while after this?"

She had already assumed he would have to.

"No. If I have to drag you around on a gurney, I'll do it."

She was still sitting next to him when they heard several sets of footsteps outside the door.

Pete, a nurse, and a couple orderlies came in to move Greg.

The nurse got him ready and put one of those little blue surgical masks over his face. She assumed it was to protect him from germs due to his low immune system and to protect the open sores on his lips.

They unlocked the brakes on his bed and began to push him out the door of his room.

Pete turned to her, "You can come, too."

Greg didn't say anything, so Claudia followed.

They took him down the hall to a part of the hospital Claudia hadn't been in yet. They rolled the bed into a large room with a special frame that looked like it could be adjusted to hold a person in certain positions.

Greg apparently knew what was going on, but Pete noticed the puzzled expression on Claudia's face.

"This is a special type of frame we normally use when positioning people to apply specific casts. Obviously we won't be applying a cast, but we can use this to keep him stable as we adjust his brace."

The techs measured Greg and then began to adjust the frame and change out several parts. The process took a while because they'd measure him, go back and adjust the frame, measure a different part of him, go back...and so on.

Once things were adjusted, Pete and his assistant left.

A few minutes later, Mathis, Wilson, Pete, his techs, and a nurse all came filing in.

"First, we're going to get you out of bed and positioned in the frame. It's already adjusted to fit you."

"I know. I was right here being measured while they did that." House just wanted to get this show on the road.

"Just be still and let us do all the work."

"Nah, I thought I'd stand up and walk over. Save us all some time."

He had been almost affectionate with her just a few minutes ago – that mood was apparently long gone.

It only took a minute before they got Greg positioned in the frame. They made a few more adjustments to the frame and soon he was completely supported.

Everyone was gathering supplies and starting to swarm around Greg. Claudia wasn't sure what to do, so she just stood at a distance.

Pete seemed to read her mind.

"It's okay. You can hold his hand. Just stay at his head out of the way."

She was relieved to hold his hand. She might need it more than him - at least there was something for her to do.

He gave her a squeeze back, though, so she did feel appreciated – or at least noticed.

Wilson looked less than thrilled to see Claudia holding Greg's hand. She still didn't understand this man. Perhaps he was hoping to play 'best friend' and hold House's hand. Maybe he was jealous?

"We're going to start by opening up the torso part to remove the padding. We can wipe you down a little bit before we move on. Don't move at all. The frame will support you and we're right here, we just need you to stay still."

"Okay."

Greg had apparently ditched the snark in favor of cooperation now that he felt precariously positioned with people surrounding him.

"You ready?"

"Yes."

Instead of using the window opening at his hip that they normally used they undid several straps and totally opened the brace to his abdomen. Half of it lifted away. She could immediately smell stale sweat and had to stifle a cough. Judging from his expression, Greg noticed as well. Five weeks' worth of sweat - it was no wonder.

Claudia fought with herself not to pull away and suck in a clean breath. She held her breath and turned her head away. She felt somewhat ashamed and turned her head back to Greg. Fortunately, she didn't think Greg had seen her turn away.

They cut through the padding and pulled it away. They cut through the liner after that.

The smell got worse.

A nurse stepped in with a basin of water, a washcloth, and a dry towel and began to gently wipe him down with warm water. She didn't use soap, but this was better than nothing. They were probably worried about skin irritation since he was about to be braced again. It obviously felt good judging by Greg's contented sigh.

She irrationally wished that she was the one wiping him down, which was kind of weird. It wasn't a caregiver instinct because she never felt compelled to offer Casey a sponge bath. She always let the nurse do it.

Her desire just had to do with Greg.

The nurse patted him dry and stepped away.

"Dr. House, we're going to remove the back plate. You will still have part of the brace over your hips. Try not to tense up."

They fastened a strap across Greg's abdomen. It was almost like a seatbelt.

"We're going to raise the frame, now." The whole frame moved up slowly when the nurse pressed a lever.

They now had access to Greg's back from underneath. They didn't have to turn him or anything.

Claudia thought this was all pretty clever.

The back half of the torso portion of his brace came off now.

It was strangely like plate tectonics from geology except that these fit together very tightly and didn't shift at the fault lines or allow for volcanoes.

The padding and liner was once again peeled away and the nurse came back to wipe his back down as well.

We're going to place this special pad behind your back and adjust the frame to keep you at the same angle now that the brace isn't holding your torso.

"Okay." He was now in the habit of replying to Mathis's every instruction.

He felt something firm behind his back that curved around his torso and the frame adjusted to meet his back.

"We're moving on to your left leg now."

Greg was starting to look more pained as they moved about this process.

Everything repeated itself as they removed padding and wiped him down.

A nurse came in with something that looked a bit like a blow dryer.

"We're just making sure you're totally dry and that we don't risk further irritating your skin. We're going to go ahead and reapply the padding and brace before we open your hip. All we've cleaned and changed the padding on so far are the parts of your brace that hold your surrounding body in place. Next comes the parts supporting the actual injury."

Claudia watched as they applied a liner and liberally wrapped him in padding.

"We're going to re-apply the brace now."

"Okay."

They started to apply the brace, but then stopped and applied additional padding.

"We need more padding than we thought around your abdomen to compensate for your weight loss."

After that, they put the brace back on his torso and left leg.

Once everything was fastened, Greg closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Greg had been watching the process, but she had no idea what was about to happen.

"We're going to move the brace away from your both of your hips now. Pete brought a replacement plate that we'll adjust and insert as we move you. This will hurt. We can't give you an anesthetic injection until we've completed the adjustment, though, because we need you to be able to feel the position to let us know if it is going to be a comfortable angle. You need to tell us how it makes the muscles in your bad thigh feel. Once we've got that positioned, though, I insist on giving you an injection. I already have it ready to go."

Mathis half expected a protest from Dr. House on the injection, but he didn't say anything.

"Dr. House, I'm going to be at your right leg with my hand around your hip as we shift. A nurse will hold your leg, but I'll be the one guiding it. Dr. Wilson is going to hold your left hip. If the pain gets too bad, just say 'stop' and we'll pause or adjust.

Pete and his assistant are right beside me ready to apply padding and get the brace on once we're ready. We're not going to wash this area. We've been cleaning your incision area and I think it would be too painful to take the time to wash you. Once the brace is closed, we've got the portable X-Ray machine ready. As soon as we're sure the position is okay and you say so, we'll give you the injection and take you back to your room. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah."

"Any questions?"

Greg readjusted his hand inside hers and met Claudia's eyes before he answered, "No questions."

"Removing the brace now."

Greg squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

Now that his brace was off, Claudia thought this might not be too bad.

Once the brace was off and the padding was cut away, Claudia watched as Dr. Mathis placed her hand around Greg's hip.

Claudia was getting used to the smell and was no longer tempted to turn away.

"I'm about to start moving your leg."

As Mathis shifted his leg, Greg moaned until he was almost screaming.

So much for the pain not being too bad.

With their positions, Claudia briefly wondered if this is what it might be like to help someone through childbirth.

Greg was gasping and moaning. Claudia wished they could get this over with and give him the anesthetic. She used her other hand to stroke Greg's cheek, but he didn't seem to react to her.

He was obviously trapped in the pain right now.

A nurse told Claudia not to move and to hold his hand, but reached around her to place an oxygen mask over Greg's mouth and nose.

She was so concentrated on her man that she wasn't watching the doctors' progress at all.

When she looked down at his body, they were wrapping him in padding, then preparing to fasten his brace.

"We just have to take X-Rays now." Mathis's voice was even and calm.

Greg only response was a grunt. His eyes were still squinted shut and his forehead was wrinkled up. He was squeezing her hand to the point of discomfort, but she didn't care.

"Almost done, Dr. House. Hang in there. Deep breaths." This was Pete's voice now.

Claudia watched as they positioned the portable machine over him and waited.

"Dr. House, the x-rays look okay. Does it feel like the angle of your hip is going to make the thigh any worse?"

House only groaned.

"Dr. House?"

"I don't know."

"Your leg is still turned and resting on its side just like before, your leg just isn't extended as far laterally. It won't be stretched across the bed as far anymore. Concentrate here for a minute."

Claudia could tell Greg was trying to think.

"It's not gonna make my thigh any worse."

"Okay. Dr. Wilson, get the injection."

It only took a minute for Greg to sigh and relax into the numbness around his hip.

"Inject my thigh, too."

Mathis got another injection and moved to his thigh.

The tension was soon gone from Greg's body.

They still had to get him situated in his room again.

Claudia trailed him back to his room.

With the new angle of his leg, they had to get his pillows adjusted differently and it took a bit. He was still wearing the oxygen mask and a nurse was reattaching his fluids to the central line.

"Dr. House, is this okay?"

Greg rested his right hand on his thigh. "It's numb, but I think so."

"Call the nurse if you need anything and she can page me. Okay?"

"Yeah."

Once everyone was gone Greg turned to check his oxygen saturation.

She watched as he pulled the mask off and shoved it away.

"Claudia."

"Yes?"

"Thanks for staying today...I was a jerk, but you helped me through all that anyway."

She didn't really know what to say, so she leaned forward and kissed his temple.

Greg looked exhausted.

"I'm going to go to sleep."

"Good idea. I'll see you tomorrow."

(Thanks for reading...I hope you'll review.)


	54. Comfort

(NOTE: This one isn't a big plot builder. I just wrote it and liked it, so I included it. Thanks for all of your reviewing, favoriting, and alerting!)

House woke up a few hours later to find Wilson sitting next to his bed.

"Hey. I wanted to check in with you before I go home tonight. How's it feel?"

"Numb. I had an anesthetic injection."

"Position-wise?"

"Again, numb. I don't know if it is going to hurt or not because I'm NUMB! It's 24 hour acting. Come back then and I'll let you know."

"Need me to get you anything before I leave?"

He really just wanted him to leave. The brace adjustment had been painful and he was in a cruddy mood. Now that he was numb, he just wanted to get some good sleep.

"Don't need anything."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

Now that Wilson was gone, House called the nurse to get ointment on his lips and mouth. He was ready for that to be numb as well before he went to sleep.

Once that was taken care of, he went ahead and assessed his leg. The only part hurting significantly there was his foot, but it was bearable. His knee was aching a bit, but not too bad.

Thank goodness his right hip and thigh were numb. He'd worry about that tomorrow when the numbness wore off.

He noticed that his torso was far more comfortable. The new padding really helped. The fit made him more comfortable, but it was depressing to realize how much weight he'd lost.

Now that he assessed how he felt, he looked down at his newly positioned right leg. Of course, the leg itself looked exactly the same, it was just the way it angled away from his body. It didn't stretch across the bed near as far. His thigh was no longer nearly at a right angle to his spine. He didn't look like some sort of mutated frog leg anymore.

It was still turned out weird and elevated just as much, but it didn't stick out as far. He figured that if you measure laterally perpendicular from where his spine would be, his knee was about a foot and a half outwards. With the way his leg was turned out and the bend in his knee, his foot wouldn't even stick out that much farther laterally than his knee.

A wheelchair would probably be doable.

With thoughts of getting out of bed, House drifted off to sleep.

HOUSE M.D.

The next morning he was still numb. He ate breakfast and was in a pretty good mood.

Mathis came by first thing to check on him.

"Can I get out of bed?"

"Not while you're numb because you won't be able to feel it if you overdo it or if positions are causing pain."

"When the numbness wears off this afternoon, I might hurt too much to get up."

"Then you'll wait until the pain goes down enough"

He saw the point and understood medically, but he wanted out of bed! If he had to wait for the numbness to wear off...

"I won't move or anything. I'll just sit in a wheelchair."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but you won't fit in a standard wheelchair. We have one that we will adjust to fit you, but if you can't feel anything you won't be able to tell us if it's hurting you or needs further adjusting. You're going to have to be an active participant in deciding whether you are comfortable, and if you're numb...do you get my drift?"

He just growled.

"I don't see any new swelling - I was concerned about that. This is good. How's your torso? We added a lot more padding."

He thought about sulking and ignoring her, but then she'd never leave.

"The brace fits better."

"We need to get your weight up again."

"In a perfect world."

"Provided your CBC is fine, you'll have chemo again in 4 days. I see that you ate well this morning. That's good - you need to try to eat as much as possible between chemo sessions."

Mathis was checking his central line and making a few notes.

"Have me paged if you have any problems."

"Okay."

With that, Mathis was gone.

It would be a few hours before the numbness wore off, so House decided to go back to sleep.

He woke up a few hours later because the numbness was wearing off and his hip was starting to throb.

Claudia had come by to see House that morning, but he was asleep when she got there. She sat in the chair next to his bed and did some work on her computer.

Her attention was caught when she heard a grunt from Greg. She looked over to see him awake, but looking alarmed.

His face was contorted in pain.

"Hey."

It was obvious that he thought he was alone when he woke up because he suddenly schooled his features and tried to hide the pain.

"It's okay. I know you're hurting - you don't have to pretend you're not."

"It's not bad. Just a little uncomfortable."

"Don't lie. I can tell you're in pain."

"Fine. I'm hurting." His tone of voice was pouty as he finally admitted his pain.

"Hip?"

"and thigh."

"I thought this position was supposed to be more comfortable for you."

Claudia really had no idea, but she thought that the adjustment was supposed to help him...

"I don't think it's the position that is causing this much pain, it's just that fact that they had to shift my leg a little bit inside the hip socket before they could re-brace it at this angle. I think the pain is from the movement - I'm just not feeling super comfortable."

"That makes sense."

Come to think of it, he wasn't comfortable at all. He thought this position would be better, but now that he had feeling back in his hip and thigh, this was horrible.

Maybe it was just because the position was different and hopefully he'd get used to it. After all, he had spent more than five weeks in the same position - he had to be patient!

He couldn't go back to the other position. There was no hope of getting out of bed in that position - he'd just have to deal with this.

House pressed the call button.

Claudia noticed that Greg was breaking out in a sweat now.

"Dr. House?"

"I'm not comfortable. I need help with the pillows."

In the past, the lines 'I need help' would turn his stomach, but he was in a different situation now.

"Where does it feel uncomfortable?"

House really wanted to answer 'my whole lower body,' but he knew that would be of no help.

A second nurse had already arrived. They kept extra pillows in his room for these type of situations, so they were good to go.

"Another pillow under my right knee. Put it perpendicular to my leg so it'll feel more stable."

One of the nurses eased his leg up while the other placed a pillow.

The nurse looked questioningly at Greg for further instruction.

"The same under my calf."

That helped, but not as much as he had hoped for.

"One of the thinner ones under my foot and tilt the head of the bed back just a few degrees."

Once the pillow was under his foot and the head of the bed was tilted, Claudia heard Greg sigh.

"How does that feel?"

"That angle helps my thigh."

"Anything else?"

"I think it's going to help. You can go...thanks." When Greg thanked nurses, she always noticed it as just a soft add on at the end. Sometimes he just told them to 'go away,' but sometimes he thanked them.

Greg didn't say anything for a minute.

"I wanted to get out of bed today, but I'm too sore now that the anesthetic has worn off."

Claudia was actually just thinking to herself that he was not in any condition to experiment with getting out of bed.

"I hope they don't want to turn me today."

He went from wanting out of bed to hoping they wouldn't try to turn or move him at all.

Her heart went out to Greg, but she didn't want to show anything that he could interpret as pity.

"I'm already tired again. It feels like all I do nowadays is sleep."

"It's only been a few days since your third dose of chemo, I'd be surprised if you weren't tired."

"...and it's only a few days until dose number four."

He normally wasn't one for self-pity, but today he made an exception.

Now that Greg's leg was brought in some, there was more space on the bed next to him. There still wasn't room to sit on his right side because of the leg, but there was more room on his left because he was closer to being centered on the bed now.

Claudia didn't know what else to do, so she just went with her gut.

She slipped off her shoes and got on the bed next to him. She aligned her body with his. When he didn't really respond, she picked up his left arm and wrapped it around herself.

After a minute he started to rub his left hand against her shoulder and seemed to be enjoying the contact.

It didn't take long for him to start looking drowsy.

She whispered to him, "It's okay...go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

He sighed before his blue eyes fluttered shut.

Thanks for reading. There will be more action in the next chapter – that was just kind of fluffy.


	55. The Wheelchair

House was still in a lot of pain the next day, but was ready to try getting out of bed anyway. The numbness had worn off less than 24 hours ago, but he was sick of this bed.

Claudia came by mid-morning to find Greg bright eyed and looking very alert.

"Hey. They're bringing the wheelchair any minute now to get me out of bed."

She could tell from his body language that he was hurting, but ready to do this anyway.

"You sure you're ready to get out of bed?" Claudia was afraid of what she might be risking by asking this question.

His facial expression abruptly shifted.

"No, I'm not sure, but I'm doing it anyway because I can't stand this."

He was honest, that was enough for Claudia.

Two nurses came in. One was carrying a pair of shorts.

"Before we get you out of bed, we're going to slip these shorts on you."

They started the usual routine where nurses explain everything before doing it. He actually listened when they explained how they would work the shorts over his right leg first...everything was a process nowadays.

He longed for the days when he could just limp stagger to the dresser and grab his own shorts.

House found himself thinking halfway through that they should have brought a larger size.

The elastic waist was stretched to the max to fit over the rigid shell surrounding his body. It was weird to look down and see the waistband of shorts, but not be able to feel it. It was almost like looking down at someone else's body. Someone else's body that was encased in a flesh-colored, hard, uncomfortable THING!

Once the shorts were on him, the nurses left again.

He was feeling like a small child that had just been dressed. He got to help the nurses pull the shorts up the last little bit once they were within his reach. Did that count for dressing himself?

Claudia could sense his discomfort, so she put her hand on his bicep and and sent him a soft smile just as the door opened and Wilson, his therapist, and several nurses entered. One of the nurses was pushing a wheelchair.

"You ready for this?" Wilson looked rather fretful.

"Yep."

His public front was now up. She knew he would never admit to these people that he was anything less than totally confident.

It looked like the therapist was going to run the show.

"I'm going to go ahead and recline the wheelchair's back before we even put you in it. With the spread of your right leg, I'm going to angle the right leg rest out to support that leg. If we tuck a pillow under your left knee, and raise the left leg rest a bit, I don't think you'll have any trouble using it normally. We'll just have to worry about getting the recline correct and keeping your right leg comfortable and stable."

They set to work reclining the wheelchair and then raising and angling the right leg rest to about where it would need to be. This chair was different in that not only did the leg rests raise and lower, they also swung outward to create more spread between the legs as needed.

One of the nurses was talking to him, "We'll always make sure the brakes are locked before moving you, but it's a good idea for you to look, too."

He remembered all of this from his infarction, but kept his mouth shut in the interest of expediting this process.

"We're going to lift you into the chair and set you down. One of the nurses will hold your right leg up while we get your left leg situated. I'm going to adjust the back of the wheelchair as needed and we'll deal with your right leg last. You ready?"

"Yes."

The nurses positioned themselves around Greg and lifted him off the bed and set him on the wheelchair's seat. By this point, he was used to being lifted and there was nothing alarming there.

One of the nurses had a pillow under his left thigh and his foot onto that rest before he even had time to think. He needed the pillow under his left thigh because he still had the brace extending partway down his left thigh.

Another nurse was supporting his torso as his therapist adjusted the angle of the wheelchair's back.

"The back is locked. The nurse is going to ease you back."

He was now leaning against the wheelchair's back and the nurses hands were on the sides of his torso.

"I'm going to put this special pillow behind your lower back. There is a gap between your back and the chair because of the way the brace encloses your body."

He was being shifted again.

"Dr. House, I need you to lift your arms."

He followed the instructions and realized they were fastening a strap around his torso. Great...he was going to be strapped in like a small child.

"You feel okay so far?"

"I'm okay."

The movement hurt, but not any more than just being turned in bed.

The nurse checked how secure the belt around his torso was before they moved on.

"We're going to get your right leg situated now."

He watched as one nurse continued to hold his leg as they adjusted the leg rest and got it angled for him. Most leg rests didn't swing out laterally, so this was good.

They obviously couldn't get the leg rest to fit the contours of his brace, so they used pillows to prop his leg up and allow for the bend in his knee.

The way his leg almost laid on its side made it a weird fit. His heel didn't sit on the raised leg rest as wheelchair use was normally intended. The foot plate had to be taken off and adjusted because his plastered foot was too large. A pillow was inserted under his casted foot so that it lay on its side as was required because of his brace.

"Ah...be gentle."

He found more pillows appearing below his thigh.

The nurses and therapist were very gentle and jostled his leg very little, but it still felt like his leg was being grabbed and ripped off by a gorilla.

"How are you doing, Dr. House?"

"I'm okay."

This was followed by a gasp. Claudia didn't believe him for a minute that he was 'okay.'

"How's your right leg feel?"

"It's going to be okay, but my right hip doesn't feel supported."

He knew the brace was on his hip, but he just didn't feel quite 'right.'

"We're getting there."

The nurse placed a pillow around his hip and against the arm rest. It felt snug now - he no longer felt like he was going to tip to the side. Rationally, he knew he wouldn't be tipping over, but it felt better to know that a pillow was there.

The therapist fastened another strap across his lap.

"How's that?"

"I don't think I could fall out of the chair or slide over if I tried."

Claudia thought Greg still looked like he was about to scream.

"Greg..."

"I feel stable."

House was somewhat ticked off that Claudia didn't trust him.

"Greg, I don't doubt that you feel stable. I can tell you're miserable - you need to tell them what's bothering you."

"Dr. House, if it's hurting you need to talk to us. We want to help you get comfortable."

Claudia was relieved that the therapist was agreeing.

"I...I think if my leg was more elevated..."

"Let's adjust the pillow at your lower back and I think we can get your leg up a bit more.

They tucked another pillow under his thigh and another under his foot.

"This is gonna help."

The pillows probably looked ridiculous, but his right leg was reasonably comfortable. He felt like a total invalid with everything it took just to get him feeling halfway decent in the wheelchair.

It was more painful than being in bed, but it wasn't too bad.

The nurses and his therapist stepped away from him now.

He felt kind of like a barge. Even though he wasn't in the bed and his leg wasn't spread the way it used to be, he still felt like he occupied a tremendous amount of space.

The therapist seemed to read his mind, "You won't fit through standard household doorways, but if you take it slow you'll fit through the doorways around the hospital because they are larger. You will also fit through any newer buildings that comply with ADA requirements. You will need to watch your right foot as you navigate through doors and such. You'll also fit on a standard elevator just fine."

That was a relief. It would do little good to have the mobility of a wheelchair if he couldn't fit through doors. He supposed he must not be as wide as he felt. He knew he had to be long, though. His leg didn't go as far out to the side which meant it stuck out farther forward and he was reclined back. He felt ridiculous. It was almost like he was in bed except without the bed and he wasn't as comfortable. (Not that you could even call being in bed wearing this contraption comfortable.)

He realized his therapist was talking again. "I don't want you trying to propel yourself more than a few feet at a time. If you want to go far, you need to get someone to help you - you can always call a nurse."

"Seriously?" This was a disappointment.

"I think you will find it next to impossible with your body reclined and the brace so high up your torso. We don't want you to strain yourself trying. I'd venture to guess you don't aim to hurt yourself, either?"

This only got a slight nod from House.

"We'll keep working your arms and torso as much as possible in physical therapy, but all of those are controlled movements."

"Yeah." He knew he was really too weak to wheel himself even if they did let him. In a way this was probably rescuing his ego before he attempted to propel himself and got all of ten feet before tiring out.

The back of the wheelchair was so high and he was reclined so far back that it would be hard to reach the wheels anyway. He couldn't bend at the waist to reach forward, either.

"Dr. House, I would suggest having someone bring you a large T-Shirt. I think it would be easier to slip that over your shoulders than try to tie a gown. What do you think?"

"Yeah."

"Let's get you back in bed."

He thought about protesting that he wanted to stay in the chair longer, but he actually was tired and hurting. Chemo fatigue was a real drag and the pain of his busted bones was perhaps even more of a drag.

With the time it took to adjust the chair and all the blabbing his therapist did, he had actually been out of bed for a while now.

"We're going to leave the chair adjusted to fit you and leave the pillows in place so that next time we can just set you in the chair, get you comfy, and strap you down."

"Okay."

Even though his brace held him in the exact same position he felt like gravity and the tilt of his body was making him hurt more than being in bed. In order to be in the wheelchair, they had him positioned so that he was tilted into more of a sitting position and his leg wasn't as elevated. That must be why it was getting so uncomfortable - blood rushing to his leg and all that good stuff. No matter what they did, the brace made it impossible for him to come close to sitting up due to the rigid angle, but it was easier to keep his leg elevated in bed.

"We're going to start by taking the strap off your waist and then your torso. A nurse will hold you every step of the way. We won't let you fall."

"Okay."

The had him unstrapped pretty quickly.

"We're lifting you now. Ready?"

"Yeah."

It still felt awkward to have other people moving his body, but he'd accepted it at this point.

"We're setting you down in bed."

They had left the bed just the same so all they had to do was ease him down and make sure his leg was situated in its nest of pillows.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need anything before we go?"

"No."

Before leaving, his therapist made a note in his chart and the nurse moved the wheelchair out of the way and parked it next to the cart of extra pillows they kept in his room for when they turned him on his side or shifted him.

He was a lot more comfortable in the bed, but was looking forward to getting out of bed again. Maybe since they wouldn't have to adjust the chair next time he'd actually feel like leaving the room by the time they got him settled.

Claudia put her hand on his left shin and told him she was going to get coffee, but would be back. He nodded as Wilson sat down next to his bed.

Wilson had been pacing around the room ever since they started the process of moving him into the wheelchair.


	56. Chapter 56

House suspected Claudia didn't really want coffee, but was giving Wilson some space alone with him.

"Will you bring me a couple of shirts?"

"Are you sure you don't want your little girlfriend to bring them?" Wilson sounded positively bitter.

Wilson's tone felt like a slap in the face to House.

"Is this some sort of problem for you - me spending time with someone other than you?"

"No! I just think this is a bad time for a relationship! Look at yourself! You can't even f***in' poop without help! You can't turn over, get out of bed, do anything! How could you possibly think this could end well?"

Wilson was on his feet again pacing the room like a caged tiger.

House felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

"Leave." House ground this out through his teeth.

"What?"

"Leave!"

"Are you just going to throw me out of your life for some woman?"

"Since when have I tried to throw you out of my life?"

"You just told me to leave!"

Wilson's anxiety level was growing, as was House's.

"Listen to yourself. I'm trying to get through this and you're not supporting me. How am I supposed to handle this when my own best friend can't? Is this about the cancer or about Claudia?"

Wilson didn't respond.

"Which is it? Answer me!" House's blood pressure was starting to climb on the monitor, but he was beyond noticing.

A nurse was hovering in the hall until she saw that Wilson was in the room. She backed away.

"You don't care what I think of the cancer, Mathis makes all of your decisions!"

"Do you seriously think you can treat all this crap and the cancer?" House was gesturing towards his body.

When Wilson followed House's hand to look at his body, he saw that House was perspiring and almost panting. He looked at his monitor.

Wilson ignored everything else once he saw House's monitor. House seemed oblivious right now.

House's heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing had been volatile since his treatments and surgery and they had to keep an eye on it. He had a history of heart attacks.

"Relax, House. Take deep breaths."

When House saw Wilson's quick change of demeanor he was thrown for a loop.

"Don't tell me to f***in' take deep breaths. That's not going to solve anything!"

"House, look at your monitor." Wilson's voice sounded like he was leading a guided meditation tour.

Sure enough, he was headed for a hypertensive crises just by being pissed off at Wilson. House didn't want to take the time for this. Why was his body always interrupting everything?

He wanted to blaze on and rip Wilson a new once, but he had to take care of himself.

Now that he wasn't yelling, he noticed the raging headache.

He ignored Wilson and just concentrated on breathing.

"Okay, House. I'm just going to leave your relationship 'stuff' alone. It's not worth it right now. You need to keep your stress low."

"You're certainly not helping with that!"

"House, let's not argue."

"Do you want meds or are you going to be okay?"

"No meds."

House figured that one he quit yelling and calmed a bit, he would be okay. He was just short on air and way to worked up.

Both men drifted into silence.

Once he was starting to feel a bit better, he moved on in a quiet voice.

"So, are you bringing me the damn shirts or not?"

"Yes. What kind of shirts?"

"Tee shirts." House was puzzled because the therapist had blatantly said what kind of shirts would probably be best.

"You own a lot of those, House. They are the staple of your wardrobe."

House realized that Wilson had a point.

"Band shirts and some of the graphic ones."

"Okay. Do you want anything else from your apartment?"

"Can you grab me a few more pairs of socks? Sometimes I feel chilled and it's nice to have one for my left foot. Look next to my bed and get some of the books stacked there."

"I have a patient here in a while, but I'll bring that stuff by later."

Without saying a word, they mutually agreed to call a truce.

Wilson was exiting as he saw Claudia coming down the hall back to Greg's room. Claudia hadn't gone to Casey's last appointment because Casey didn't want her to. The only times she had seen Wilson was around Greg and he was pretty icy to her.

"Claudia, he almost had a hypertensive crisis. Don't upset him." He continued down the hall without so much as another glance at her.

Wilson seemed to be Greg's personal watchdog.

She had no idea exactly what that meant, so she decided to just treat lightly.

Claudia slipped into Greg's room.

She sat in the chair next to him and sipped her coffee.

"Do you need me to go by your apartment and get you some shirts?"

She hadn't been in his apartment and secretly wanted to explore it a bit.

"Wilson's going to get them. Thanks, though."

Darn, maybe some other time.

His phone went off again with the generic ring tone.

"I'll take one guess on who this is."

Greg punched the phone on and put it up to his ear.

"Hi, Mom."

...

"Oh. That sounds...great."

...

"You can just come by the hospital - I can quit working for a while. When you get to the hospital, give me a call."

...

"What time?"

...

"Okay."

...

"I gotta go. See you tomorrow."

Greg looked stressed now.

"She's coming tomorrow. She'll be here by mid-afternoon."

"I'll come up and be with you while she's here. Maybe she'll be distracted by your new girlfriend."

Claudia gave him a flirtatious smile hoping to cheer him up.

"That's a good idea."

"I'm full of good ideas." She tried to distract him by planting kisses on his temple, but he was obviously too deep in thought.

"I'm not telling her I have cancer. I'll just make it out as a bad injury. My hair is still okay. Can you help me get a T-shirt on tomorrow?"

"If that's what you want."

"I just have to keep Wilson away from her because he can't lie. I'm not going to lie to her...I'll just omit some information. My femur is broken and my foot is broken because I fell when a kid ran into my cane. None of that is a lie - I'll just leave that as the story.

"With this big brace around my gut she won't be able to see how much weight I've lost. With the T-shirt, she won't be able to see the brace or my central line. I'm always on fluids, so she'll see the IV line, but assume it's a regular old IV and won't know the difference."

He was so focused - he looked like he was working on a case.

"If we pull a sheet up over my left leg and around my waist, all that will be sticking out is my right leg. I don't think we could get it covered - that would probably be uncomfortable and my leg is so elevated it would look like a damn tent."

Claudia was intrigued that he kept saying "we." So, he was trusting and enlisting her to help deceive his mother?

She wasn't sure how she felt about deceiving his mom, but she felt excellent knowing that he wanted her to help him.

"You've got to help me. I don't think I can deal with her emotions if she knows how sick I am. She'll cling to me like a leech and stress me out. Please..."

He looked desperate.

"Yeah...whatever you need."

"Okay. Tomorrow will be day 5 after my chemo treatment. I just have to be rid of her before the next treatment. I can't have her here for that.

"So, the story is that I fell when a kid ran into my cane. I broke my femur and my foot. The mouth sores are a side effect of meds. That's not even a lie because they are a side effect of the chemo."

She nodded along so he'd know she was on the same page.

"You're going to help me?"

"Of course."

Claudia kissed his forehead and perched on the bed next to him.

She was wearing shorts, so her bare legs were on the bed next to him.

He reached out and began rubbing his left hand over her thigh and knee. Claudia didn't know if he even realized he was doing it, but his touch felt nice.

When she left, Claudia promised to come back early tomorrow so that she could help him get presentable for his mom.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia had only been gone a few minutes when Wilson showed up.

Wilson plopped down in the chair next to him.

"House, I'm going to be gone a couple days. Apparently the guest speaker for the oncology conference in Virginia had a death in the family. Cuddy wants me to be the pinch hitter. Mathis is still here and either of you can call me if you have any problems."

Of course, Wilson would be upset that he would be gone at all. He felt like he had to be close to House to maintain some sort of control. Wilson lived by the whole 'the closer you are to the patient, the more you care' philosophy.

"If you take a turn for the worse I can be on a plane right away."

Wilson certainly wasn't on board with the whole positivity things.

"You make it sound like I'm dying or something!" House tried to say it jokingly, but it fell flat.

Wilson didn't comment.

They both sat in silence until House couldn't stand it. Wilson was usually the one to break the silence, but...

"Okay. It will probably be good for you to get away for a while."

House knew it would be good for him because Wilson would be gone while his mom was here. That way Wilson wouldn't even have to know his mom was around.

"I picked up some shirts for you when I went to lunch. I have to go pack, so hang in there until I get back."

Wilson flashed him the worried version of his 'Boy Wonder' smile and headed out the door.

Yes!

Dealing with his mom just got exponentially easier.

His relationship with Wilson was getting weird. In the past Wilson was his sole source of 'emotional support,' but now Claudia fulfilled a large portion of that. Granted, he still talked to Wilson about things he would never talk to her about, but she was kind of his rock now. Maybe this was why Wilson seemed so weird.

He was probably keeping Wilson's stress levels a lot lower these days. Wilson would be a basket case if he was the one dealing entirely with House. Wilson certainly couldn't provide the level of 'physical affection' he had become accustomed to.

That would be just plain creepy.

He groped around the night table for his phone so that he could call Claudia with the good news.

HOUSE M.D.

House did not sleep well that night.

His hip was still excessively tender. He began to question the wisdom of getting his brace adjusted. The adjustment only involved shifting the angle of his leg in his pelvic girdle, so it wasn't like this was detrimental as far as healing went. It just hurt.

As a doctor he knew that there was pain anticipated with the healing of broken bones and this was perfectly normal, but that didn't mean he wasn't miserable.

He was maxed out on non-narcotics.

He knew nerves over his mother's visit was part of what was keeping him awake - so that just left him with plenty of time to think about how much he was hurting.

At about 1 am he called a nurse.

"I want to be turned on my side. I'm not comfortable."

"Okay. Let me get some help."

He knew the movement of being turned would hurt, but he hoped he would be more comfortable once he was on his side.

After turning him, the nurses left telling him to, "Go back to sleep and call if you need anything else."

He thought about snarking that he had to have been asleep to 'go back,' but then they would probably want to get him some meds to help him sleep, then he'd feel all groggy and would have nightmares. Nope...keep that thought to himself.

He drifted off for about an hour until the pain woke him back up at 2. He decided to just suck it up until about 2:30 when he called a nurse again.

"I need on my back."

"Are you having more pain than usual tonight? Do you want me to page the doctor?"

"NO! I want YOU to turn me ON MY BACK! If I wanted you to page a DOCTOR, I would ask you to page a DOCTOR!"

The nurse looked slightly frightened and he knew he probably sounded venomous, but he couldn't get even semi-comfortable.

She came back with more nurses and he was once again on his back.

He actually felt a little bit bad for yelling at the nurse - what was wrong with him these days?

He still didn't feel comfortable. The first night after the adjustment he was still numb, so he slept well then. The next night he slept halfway decent, but this was not working out.

Maybe this was some weird muscle-memory thing. Perhaps he was just uncomfortable with being in a different position after being in the same position for 5 1/2 weeks straight? He thought it sounded great to have his leg stretched out all the way across the bed to his side. I made no sense!

The whole time he was sprawled out, all he could think about was pulling his leg in to a more comfortable angle, and now that it was in the "more comfortable position" he just wanted to go back!

But this wasn't comfortable!

It wasn't even pain so much right now as he was just uncomfortable.

He wanted to fidget around and shift his legs some, but that wasn't even an option with the brace. He was still in a 1 and ½ hip spica so he couldn't change the angle of his left hip either. He could bend his left knee, but that did little good when he couldn't adjust that hip.

He normally wasn't demanding during the night, but he hit the call button yet again.

"I need the head of the bed reclined and something under my lower back, buttocks, and right leg so that it will be elevated a bit more."

Once he was reclined all the way back with his rear up in the air and a bunch of pillows under his leg, he finally felt like he might be able to sleep.

He nodded at the nurses and they were gone again.

He hadn't been in anything close to this pose in quite a while. This was similar to the position Mathis had used when his swelling was so bad. He didn't feel like he had swelling, this just felt comfortable at the moment.

This position actually felt better with his leg closer in than it had felt with his leg sprawled out. He'd have to make a mental note of that.

He got a couple straight hours of sleep and felt like that was about the best he could hope for.

House let them put the head of his bed up some so he could eat and used the bedpan, but then had them lay his back flat again and stick a foam wedge and a few pillows under his rear.

He figured he might as well go with this for now because he certainly wouldn't want to be in this position later when his mom got here.

He got them to put the ointment on his lips and in his mouth so that the numbness could go ahead and wear off. With that pain lessened he might even go back to sleep again.

Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.


	57. Shirts

(NOTE: New chapter for you guys. Thanks for your continued support! I will definitely keep writing, but there is a possibility updates might slow a bit due to responsibilities at work. I assure you I will not abandon the story and will update as often as possible!)

A little before 10:00, Claudia showed up. She was somewhat surprised to find Greg leaned back with his rear up in the air. She hadn't seen him like that in quite a while.

"What's with the...?" She made a vague gesture toward his position.

"I just felt uncomfortable and wanted to try something different. I think I'm ready to get tilted up again, though."

He pressed the call button and some nurses came in to get him repositioned.

"I want to be sitting up as much as the brace will allow."

The nurses got him sitting up a bit more than usual, but he quickly figured out that it would be uncomfortable.

"Ow...never mind. Lean me back some more and get my leg elevated higher."

Once they got him in position and securely propped up, Claudia and Greg were alone again.

"Hey, you don't have an IV today."

"My fluid intake has been good, so they disconnected it."

"Great"

Greg seemed happy with this development, which made Claudia happy.

He looked contemplative now.

Wilson normally helped him with all his morning hygiene stuff, but Wilson wasn't here today.

The nurses weren't in the habit because they knew Wilson took care of it.

He was hesitant to ask, but he figured he'd either have to ask Claudia or feel nasty. It would be silly to call a nurse in to bring him supplies when Claudia was standing right there.

House hadn't thought of this as a complication of Wilson being gone.

"Claudia, can you get a basin, some water, a washcloth, and that bag off the top of the dresser over there."

She was somewhat puzzled, but proceeded to do whatever Greg needed.

"Wilson normally does this, but he's not here."

Greg sounded embarrassed. She wondered what this was about.

"Can you scoot the bedside table over?"

Once she had everything he'd asked for on the bedside table, she understood why he wasn't exactly comfortable asking for this.

He thanked her, but proceeded as if she wasn't there.

Greg trimmed his stubble using a battery-powered razor and then set that aside. She realized it was one of the razors that collected the clippings itself. If she was a man, that is what she would go for. He obviously did this from muscle memory because he didn't look in a mirror.

It had been long enough since the ointment application that it would be absorbed and he could go ahead and clean his mouth.

Claudia watched as Greg got out several items packed in sterile bags and tore them open. It was obviously some sort of special dental hygiene stuff. He retrieved several sponge swabs and held up a mirror as he carefully cleaned his teeth. He used some sort of rinse from a bottle and then spit it out into the basin with a cough.

He used his hand to carefully pat his hair into place, but didn't use a comb or anything - she suspected he was afraid more would fall out before his mother got here.

He wet the washcloth using water from the bedside pitcher and wiped his face and neck down being careful to stay clear of his lips. Once that was done, he squeezed it out, wet it again and wiped his armpits. He dabbed them dry with a towel and applied deodorant.

He put everything back on the table and pushed it aside.

"You need anything else?"

He looked around and found a cup of water with a straw in it. She watched as he put the straw far back on his tongue and took a sip.

"Will you get me some more water? Not cold or anything."

"Sure."

Claudia was actually excited that he was allowing her to help him; normally he avoided asking her to do anything for him or help him with anything.

When she got back with the water, he took another sip and set it on the table within reach.

"Can you hand me that bag there?"

Greg was indicating a sports bag on the dresser that she hadn't noticed being there before.

She retrieved the bag and he groped through it until he pulled out a blue tee shirt with some sort of boat design on it.

"I think this is one of the looser shirts I have."

Claudia recalled back to the day she first saw him in the lobby and remembered that his shirt was fairly fitted - which was super sexy.

He was holding the shirt in his lap and was just sort of staring at it.

"I think I can get my head through the shirt hole, but may need some help getting it over the brace. I might need to hold myself up with my hands and you could pull it down my back?"

House wouldn't admit it, but he was sore and slightly concerned about hurting himself or shifting wrong while trying to put the damn shirt on.

He sounded very hesitant about asking for her help.

"We'll figure something out. Get it over your head and we'll go from there."

Greg put his arms through the holes and pulled his head through, but then ended up kind of stranded as he tilted to the left a bit to pull his arm all the way through. When he unconsciously tilted to the right a bit he moaned and couldn't stop himself with his hand because it was stuck in the shirt. Claudia grabbed him under the armpits to get him still, but not before he had obviously made his hip hurt.

"Let me help you instead of trying to wiggle your way into the shirt - you're hurting yourself!"

"I think I must usually bend my back whenever I put on shirts."

It was one of those things he had never thought about and took for granted. Putting on a shirt. Exactly what kind of movements had he used in the past?

Greg just looked frustrated now because he had his left arm all the way through and his right arm trapped half way through as the shirt was bunched up at the shoulder and back.

Once she was sure that he was done fidgeting back and forth she let go of him and reached for the shirt.

"Your right arm won't go all the way through because the shirt is kind of caught in the back of your brace. Tilt just your head forward."

Once he moved his head she was able to get the edge of his shirt and hold the arm hole in place until he threaded his arm through. Now he was through the holes, but the shirt was just bunched up around the top of his brace.

He grabbed the front of the shirt and started to pull it down over the brace.

"I think that if we recline the bed and I hold myself with my arms, you could just pull the shirt down my back. Will you help me with that?"

"Yep. Get your arms in place and I'll tilt the bed back just a tad."

Once he was ready to hold himself, Claudia tilted the bed a bit until she could get her hands in. She worked the T-shirt over the brace and tugged it down his back. It got stuck partway. She continued working with the shirt until she noticed Greg's arm lightly quivering and decided to move on.

"I'm going to bring the bed back up."

While he rested a minute, she worked the shirt down from the front.

It looked ridiculous because the shirt was rather baggy around his shoulders where he'd apparently lost weight, but it wasn't quite large enough to pull down his brace.

Even stretching it, the farthest she could get it was to a little above where his belly button would be.

He interrupted her thoughts, "Why are you stopping there?"

"Don't you notice it's a wee bit tight?"

"No."

He was running his hand over his shoulder - of course it wasn't tight there!

"It won't go any further!"

Greg looked farther down at his torso.

"Oh."

He seemed puzzled...

"I didn't think I was that bulky in this thing. I mean...I know my leg is bulky, but my torso is..."

She watched his face as he was obviously processing something.

She saw his eyes as he suddenly came to some sort of realization - he looked panicked.

"I must look so out of proportion!"

He seemed overly upset now - too much of a reaction for just a tight shirt to elicit.

"Is the brace really that big?"

She had no idea how to respond...obviously the shirt was stuck so the brace was large enough that his shirt didn't fit over it - it was quite bulky, but he had never seemed particularly bothered before.

"Well, there is some extra space in the brace to give you room to breathe and it's thick enough to support you and there is padding..."

This wasn't awkward or anything.

She didn't suppose she'd ever thought about it, but she had noticed they always kept a folded over egg crate mattress pad behind his back so that the brace wouldn't dig into his back and the ridge wouldn't be uncomfortable.

The main place there was space was around the front of his body so that he could fully inflate his lungs and there was room for his abdomen to expand after eating. It was fitted, but there was extra space in all the important spots at the same time...it really was well engineered.

Okay, he was currently freaking out...not a good time to contemplate this, Claudia. She needed to focus herself and get this under control.

"I must look like a damn barrel!"

His torso wasn't near as big as a barrel, but the way it curved a bit at the front...okay not a good time to agree with him.

"It's not too bad."

"NOT TOO BAD?"

A nurse appeared in the door. She could probably hear him yelling. She noticed the shirt that Claudia was apparently putting on him and gave her a puzzled look.

She mouthed, 'He's okay. I've got this' and hoped to goodness that she really did have this under control.

"We could just cut a slit in your shirt."

He suddenly grasped the shirt almost protectively.

"We are not cutting my shirt!"

Okay...touch.

Claudia started to caress his arms in an effort to calm him down.

"Greg. Let's just leave the shirt the way it is. You look fine."

In reality it was scrunched up and stuck halfway down his torso, but that was beside the point right now. She'd be lucky if his heart monitor didn't start going off.

She really thought a shirt would help his body image, not harm it!

What was going on?

She couldn't figure this out...

Hormone therapy!

It just occurred to her that Mathis had pulled her aside in the hall recently and mentioned that the full dose was built up in his body now and he might seem a little bit emotional at times. Okay...that was all this was. She hadn't really freaked him out over a damn shirt! This was just a side effect.

"Some of your emotions right now are just a side effect of the hormone therapy. It's not a big deal."

"I'M NOT EMOTIONAL and this isn't a side effect! I'm huge! The brace makes my lower body and abdomen look MASSIVE!"

Yeah.

She better just shut up. (She had to admit that he was pretty bulky in the brace. She was startled and very hesitant about his brace before she got used to seeing it, but it didn't bother her now. Heck, when she first saw him in the brace - she wanted to head for the hills and avoid him.)

She leaned over bringing her body close to his in an awkward hug hoping to ride this little outburst out.

He soon started to cry, so he was probably getting to the end here.

"I'm tired."

She looked at her watch. It was only a little after 11:30. His mom was coming at 3ish. There was time and the best thing for him to do would probably be take a nap.

"Go to sleep for a little while. There's plenty of time."

She eased back and sat in the chair still maintaining touch with her hand.

Once he was asleep, she crept out to let the nurse know what happened and ask if maybe they could let him sleep and then he could eat lunch later. It's not like he could eat the food hot anyway.

The nurse came in and checked all of Greg's vitals on the monitors and made a few notes in his chart. The nurse told her that Greg was okay and agreed to let him sleep and have dietary skip his room for now.

(I've noticed that House actually does wear his tees fairly tight for a guy. It looks great, so I thought I'd include that in the story.)


	58. Mother

(NOTE: I think House and his mom have a complicated relationship - I'm going to try to illustrate my ideas about it. I think they love each other, but he keeps her out of his life and doesn't share much with her. I think his obligatory phone call on holidays as shown in one episode is probably a pretty good picture. Most mothers instinctively want to care for their children, though, so we'll see that. From the show, we've found out that Wilson has always been House's support system in adulthood.)

Greg had eaten some food and was relatively calm by 1:30. He had gotten some sleep and it had helped. Neither of them made any comments about the shirt ordeal.

At about 1:30 Mathis came by.

"Do you want to get out of bed for real today?"

He did, but he knew his mom was coming and wanted to save energy for that.

"Actually I'm about to have someone visiting me this afternoon and it's kinda important. I think I'll pass on today...maybe later or tomorrow."

"Your choice."

She examined him and asked the usual doctory questions.

"Since you aren't getting out of bed, I'm going to go ahead and have them turn you to your left side. You can turn again before the visitor arrives."

"Okay."

Mathis left the room.

Great.

He'd just have to make sure he was on his back again before his mom got here. Now that his leg was adjusted, turning was exponentially easier.

He didn't have to be shifted over on the bed first. He could just be turned because his right leg didn't require a ridiculous amount of space anymore.

He had discovered yesterday that he could actually help. It now only took one nurse to hold his leg and give him a little boost to turn. Another nurse stayed to help situate pillows and spot him, but he was gradually becoming a bit more independent.

Once he was on his side and relatively comfortable, the nurses left and Claudia sat to face Greg.

"I'd venture a guess your mom doesn't know about me."

"I don't see my mom very often - only a few times a year. I haven't been to their house in years. I guess it's just her house now. Well, I've been home if you count a quick stop for his funeral. I only see her when she visits me...I have always avoided them since becoming an adult - especially when her husband was still alive. I don't necessarily avoid her now; I just don't try to see her, either."

Claudia thought it was very odd that he had now said 'her husband' several times. Even if his parents had divorced and his mom had re-married, she thought most people would say 'Stepfather.'

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

"She always took his side on anything. She always did exactly what he wanted with no regard for me or what I might think. Sometimes I felt like they were a couple and I was just an accessory. I didn't feel like we were a family. When he was gone, I felt like Mom and I were a family. Every time he came back, though, I felt pushed to the side. She's always loved me, but loved him more and cared more about his wants than my wants or needs. I never felt close to other people growing up. We always moved."

Greg shook his head.

"It's all irrelevant now. If we can just have a pleasant visit and I can send her on her way... I actually want to see her though; I just don't want to spend a bunch of time around her."

Claudia listened to Greg's 'stream of consciousness' style of conversation with rapt interest. Even though they spent a lot of time together, in some ways they were strangers.

The nurses came and helped him turn onto his back again. Claudia stepped aside as they helped Greg use the bedpan. When she turned back, the nurses were gone and Greg was staring at her.

"Would you help me get covered before my mom gets here?"

"Yes."

House hadn't been bothering to use a sheet, but Claudia helped him pull one over his left leg. He couldn't even lean forward to help himself pull a sheet over his own foot. She handed Greg the top of the sheet so that he could arrange it around his hips and up his torso while she pulled it over his left leg.

"Greg, do you want your left foot covered or exposed? Are you warm?"

"Cover it."

He was still wearing the bunched up T-shirt, so he pulled the sheet up to where the shirt ended and folded the edge of the sheet so that it would conceal his brace and awkward shirt.

By the time they were through, the only things sticking out of the sheet were his elevated right leg and upper body.

She immediately missed seeing his muscular shoulders, but she understood wanting to wear a tee to hide the brace and central line from his mom.

Even though he didn't have anything connected to it right now, the central line and its leads stood out against his pale chest. The stitches were gone and the area was no longer irritated or covered in a dressing. Greg usually kept the extra leads lightly taped out of the way so they weren't flopping around.

The shirt was a good idea because it also would seem awkward if he looked naked in the hospital bed except for a sheet.

He was fully situated when his cell rang again.

He took a deep breath and answered.

"Hello, Mom."

...

"I'm on the eighth floor now. There's something I need to tell you."

Was it too late to tell her he wasn't at work today or that he was out of the country?

"I broke my leg. I'm actually a patient right now. 8th floor - room 814. See you soon."

House hung up without even waiting for a response.

Greg exhaled and let his shoulders droop.

"That was awkward. She's on her way. Maybe the elevator will stall."

He was incredibly uncomfortable now and was trying to deflect with a joke.

Claudia saw right through him.

It didn't take long to hear the clack of what was probably a practical pair of low heeled pumps.

Greg pulled himself up as much as possible and checked that he was covered.

"Do I look okay?"

Greg was talking in a hushed, nervous tone.

"You're fine."

"Gregory!"

His mom entered and approached him. She leaned forward to hug him and Greg leaned back and managed to get away with just a shoulder hug. She placed a light kiss on the top of his head.

She was openly staring at his uncovered right leg and its bulky brace.

"I wasn't expecting this. What happened?"

"I was walking down the hall when a kid ran into my cane. I was placing my weight on the cane when it happened, so I collapsed. I fell and broke my leg and my foot."

Claudia stood at the other side of Greg's bed out of the way.

"Oh, dear. What is wrong with your lips?"

"It's a reaction to some pain meds."

"Is it temporary?"

"Yeah. It's getting better - I just had a reaction."

"So, they are giving you pain meds? Are they effective or are you still in a lot of pain?"

"They're pretty good. I still hurt, but that's to be expected."

"As long as you're going to be okay. Who's this?"

She had been so focused on Greg, that she just now noticed Claudia.

"This is my girlfriend, Claudia. That's my mom, Blythe House."

Blythe shook hands with Claudia.

"It's good to meet you."

Claudia had trouble reading the woman - was she glad to see Claudia there, upset, or just surprised?

She quickly shifted her attention back to Greg.

His mom didn't seem to overreact the way Greg thought she might.

"Your shirt is all wrinkled, let me help you smooth it out. From the look of the shoulders it may need to be pulled down some."

Yikes...his mom was now reaching towards him to straighten out his clothes.

"Mom. I'm just lying in bed. I'm comfortable right now...leave it be."

"Gregory, this is the hospital that you work at. Your colleagues could see you. What if your boss came by and saw you like this? Your girlfriend is right here. Don't you want to look nice for her?"

He thought about telling her that she should have noticed by now that he always wore his clothes to work wrinkled, but it wasn't worth it. She knew he was a bit of a slob in some ways, but still felt the impulsive motherly desire to help him.

"You already look somewhat sickly. This broken leg sure has knocked you out. Your face looks like you might have lost weight."

She was running her hand over his face now - he almost stopped her to ask if she had washed her hands recently, but that would seem weird.

He thought she had given up on the whole shirt thing, but she moved away from his face and pulled the sheet down to help him 'straighten up' when he was least expecting it.

His mom gasped when she saw it.

"Oh my! Did you hurt your back, too?"

"No, Mom. It is just to help stabilize my femur. It's attached to the brace on my leg and helps me keep it still and not accidentally move it."

He didn't mention the broken pelvis.

"I know it's a god-awful ugly thing - and so large, but you don't have to hide it from your own mother. I love you no matter how horrible you look!"

His mom was an "I love you just the way you are" kind of mom, but she was also brutally honest about some things.

He didn't know how much more of this he could take. She was just confirming how bad he looked.

Claudia cringed...she was practically stating all of Greg's fears from earlier verbatim.

Greg wasn't reacting. He was just staring at his mother.

"It's a shame that you broke your bad leg. You already have so much trouble walking on it. Is this injury going to leave permanent damage once you get out of the brace?"

When Greg didn't answer, she pressed on.

"I hope it doesn't leave you even more crippled. I mean, not that it makes you any less of a great doctor - I would just hate to see you like that."

Greg's mouth was hanging open and he was blinking excessively.

His mom seemed to be rambling and Greg looked like he was in shock.

"Aww... it's not so bad, baby. You'll be okay. You may be hurt right now, but your new girlfriend is lovely. I'm sure she loves you anyway. If she sticks around through this, she must really love you. I know I love you anyway. Even if you can't walk at all, I'll still love you."

Here his mom was processing...all of her thoughts were coming out like verbal diarrhea. Greg was probably right to wonder whether he could deal with her as she tried to deal with this.

Claudia needed to take some sort of action - she came to support him, but she was downright useless.

"Mrs. House, let's go down to the cafeteria. I could really use a sandwich. You must be hungry after your trip."

Claudia started to guide his mom out by the arm, but she wasn't coming.

"I don't know if we should leave Greg alone. What if he needs something? I need to be here to help him."

"He does fine. He'll call a nurse if he needs something."

"He's always been so resistant to asking for help. He might be afraid to ask. He probably needs help just to use the bathroom. Have you gone to the bathroom recently, Gregory?"

Greg seemed non-responsive. He was probably shocked. She really wanted to stuff a sock in his mother's mouth.

"I insist we go eat."

She got his mom out of the room. They were halfway to the elevator when she spotted Dr. Foreman.

"Claudia, I was just about to stop by and see House."

"Dr. Foreman, this is House's mother. She just came by. We were about to get a late lunch and I think she would really enjoy a tour of the hospital after that and an opportunity to meet Greg's team. She would really like to know more about Greg's life."

"Well, I'd really like to get back to Greg..." His mom was fumbling.

"It would mean so much to him if you would take the time to get to know some of the people in his life and learn about his workplace."

His mom was hesitant.

"If you think it would be important to him."

"I do."

"It's good to see you, Dr. Foreman."

Claudia leaned in and gave Foreman a big hug.

He looked awkward at first, but caught on and returned the hug.

She whispered intensely in his ear, "She upset him. I need some time to get Greg calmed down. Keep her away for a while. Enlist other team members if you have to."

She probably wouldn't have told his other team members that Greg was upset, but she needed Foreman to understand and help.

Foreman just gave her a nod.

She felt much better now that she had time to go back and check on Greg.

Reviews are always appreciated!


	59. Leaving

(NOTE: Just a short one. Thanks for continuing to read and review!)

Now that Greg's mother was safely out of the way, Claudia tapped on the door and went back into his room.

Greg was in bed staring straight ahead doing nothing. His face was totally blank.

Claudia stopped a few feet from his bed to feel out his reactions and see what he needed from her right now.

Sometimes he needed space...sometimes he needed contact.

"She's gone to lunch with Foreman. I told her it would mean a lot to you for her to meet your team and go on a tour of your workplace."

At first Greg said nothing.

"She bought that?"

"Apparently."

"She knows I'm practically anti-social and she still thinks I would care if she got to know my team?"

"What can I say?"

"She used to know me more. I think she's kind of losing it since he died."

Claudia didn't even know what to say to that.

Greg continued to stare ahead until she saw his face change and he seemed to shift gears, "Whatever. At least she's gone for a while. Come here."

He stretched his hand out to her. She grabbed it and sat on the bed next to him.

He pulled her closer. She had been keeping a hand towel on his bedside table, so she grabbed that to put against the ridge of his brace and snuggled up next to him.

She was familiar enough with Greg's body now to know what would hurt him and what was okay. She leaned against his torso and kissed his jaw. He inched his hand into her shirt to stroke her breast as she settled down next to him.

"How long do you think we've got before she comes back."

"Depends on how good Foreman is at keeping her entertained."

She enjoyed the warmth of Greg's body against her own.

Claudia was surprised to find Greg asleep a few moments later. Sometimes he would sleep for hours on end and sometimes he'd be awake most of the night - kind of like last night.

Greg slept for about an hour before she was disappointed to see his mother standing in the doorway.

Claudia put her finger to her lips indicating to be quiet and motioned that Greg was asleep.

His mother nodded in understanding and sat down in the chair next to Greg's bed.

Her immediate reaction was to get off the bed. What mother would want to see a woman she just met cuddled up to her injured son?

She didn't move, though, because she wanted Greg to sleep. She would confess that she also wanted to stake a bit of a claim on Greg and let his mom know that she was a part of his life.

She decided to stay all afternoon. Fortunately, she told Casey that she would be gone for the day, so she didn't need to contact him.

Casey was doing a lot better and didn't require a lot of help anymore. He had lost a good deal of weight after the stomach removal surgery and they wanted him to gain some more back before starting chemo.

He wasn't showing any sign of cancer. Claudia didn't totally understand why they still intended to do chemo.

Claudia heard Greg's breathing change and knew that he would be waking up soon.

"Hey, Claudia." It was barely a whisper intended just for her.

Greg covered his mouth and yawned before lightly smiling at her.

"Hello, Gregory."

Greg was less than thrilled to find that he was not alone with Claudia.

"Hi, Mom. Did you have a nice lunch?"

"Oh, yes. Dr. Foreman is very pleasant."

Foreman, pleasant?

"Great."

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"I'm okay - just tired. Claudia, thank you for coming by. Do you mind if I spend some time alone with my mom?"

"Sure."

Claudia was a little bit hurt that he was now getting rid of her. She had spent her entire day helping him get ready for his mom and then trying to help him deal with her.

She turned away from him and got off the bed.

Greg made a movement to hug Claudia close.

"I have an idea for getting rid of her. Put a hurt expression on your face – as if you don't want to leave." Greg intensely whispered in her ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Greg said this aloud.

She stared at Greg and then turned back to his mom ensuring that a sad expression was plastered across her face. It wasn't hard because she already was hurt. She wanted to be there for Greg, and now he didn't care? He wanted her to leave?

Claudia forced a small smile to House's mom as she left.

"It was nice to meet you."

"You, too."

Claudia headed for the elevators trying to figure Greg out.

An idea for getting rid of his mom?

Put a hurt expression on her face?

OH!

It suddenly clicked. Greg wasn't trying to get rid of her. He was getting rid of her in order to manipulate his mom into leaving.


	60. Better

(NOTE: Thank you to all the readers hanging in with me! Special thanks to those of you who are reviewing. Here is a nice long chapter. Reminder - House just asked Claudia to give him some time alone with his mom.)

Once Claudia was gone, his mom focused in on him. She was studying him way too hard for House to feel at ease. It was almost like she knew he was leaving something out regarding his condition.

"How long do you have to wear that brace for?"

"I don't know yet. There's a lot that factors into how quickly I'll heal."

"I guess it's complicated."

"How long will you have to stay in the hospital?"

"Don't know yet." Not a lie. So far, so good.

House and his mom shared an awkward silence. He could tell from her face that she was thinking really hard about something.

"Did Claudia seem upset when she left?" Time for House to plant the seed.

His mom didn't answer his question directly.

"Are you happy with Claudia?"

"Yeah, I am. She's great."

Just thinking about Claudia made him smile.

"She's good for you."

"Yeah."

"I think you may have hurt her feelings."

"What?" Perfect. House pretended to be shocked.

"When you sent her away to spend time with me, she must feel like you're trying to push her away. Maybe she thinks that you were just using her until someone else came along to help you."

"I'm not using her."

"I know you aren't sweetheart, but women can interpret things differently. She's probably afraid you'll quit caring about her now that I'm here."

"That's not true. I just wanted her to leave for a bit so that I could spend time with you!" House put on his shocked face.

"I want to spend time with you, Gregory, but I don't know that my presence is in the best interest of your relationship right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want Claudia to think that I'm the meddling mother trying to keep her away from you."

"Ohhh...I understand what you mean."

He felt so fake - this almost seemed scripted. It was playing out perfectly, so far.

"I'm going to spend the night here in Princeton, come by to see you in the morning, and then head home. I'll be back in time for book club and you can get back to things with your girl."

House pretended to contemplate that idea.

"I'm glad you figured out why she was upset."

"It's a woman's intuition. You look tired. Why don't I go get a hotel and you can get some sleep tonight."

"No. Spend the night at my apartment. Hand me my bag over there."

House dug out his key and gave it to his mom.

"You don't mind?"

"No problem."

She gave her son a kiss on the forehead and slipped out for the night.

HOUSE M.D.

Once his mom was well out of sight, he dialed Claudia.

"Hello?"

"Claudia, she's leaving tomorrow."

"What did you do?"

"Manipulated her into thinking that she's going to interfere in our relationship and scare you away."

"It's more likely I'd punch her with the way she was rambling today."

"Either way, she's leaving. She's coming by in the morning and then leaving."

"I'll come see you tomorrow afternoon."

"Good. See you then."

END CHAPTER

He slept fairly well. Now that his mom was leaving, he felt like a lot of stress had been lifted off his shoulders.

His mom came by for a pleasant visit the next morning. Things were easy and comfortable between them. She wished him well with Claudia.

His mom made him promise her that he would call Claudia and let her know that he didn't mean anything by sending her away to spend time with his mom.

House also had to promise that he would call his mom if he needed anything at all and she would hop a plane and come running.

He had no doubt she would, but he was now ready for her to hop a plane and go running the other way.

His mom was going to stop by and see Wilson. House was incredibly relieved that Wilson was gone. He had really lucked out with this visit. He thought it would never work out to keep the cancer from his mom, but it played out perfectly.

Once his mom was gone, He was looking forward to getting up in the wheelchair again and actually leaving the hospital room this time.

His hip had finally calmed down again since the brace adjustment and he had decided that he actually might be feeling more comfortable.

Mathis had already cleared him to go to the patient courtyard and get some fresh air. He realized going outside might be a bit ambitious for his first trip out of the room in the wheelchair, but he really didn't care.

His blood cell counts were acceptable, so she approved him to be exposed to other people as long as he wore a mask and was careful not to touch anything.

He was worried he'd feel conspicuous in the mask, but it also meant nobody would see his mouth sores - which was a good thing as far as he was concerned.

Patients were often seen wearing masks in the hospital, so he decided that it was no big deal.

Claudia arrived shortly before he was scheduled to leave the hospital room.

The nurses helped him get dressed in shorts again. He had a tee pulled down as far as it would go and then it was folded so that the extra shirt rested at the top of his brace since it really didn't fit over very well. He figured that looked better than having it tightly stretched over the first 2 inches of his brace (and he didn't want to stretch out his shirts)

Claudia had offered to go buy him a larger shirt, but he wanted his shirts!

He had never cared that much how he looked on a daily basis, but sitting in the wheelchair he wanted to look as normal as possible.

House had been put back on fluids for the night, but they disconnected him for his trip out of the room.

Nurses came to get him positioned in the wheelchair. Now that it was adjusted, it didn't take nearly as long to get him propped up and then get the strap fastened around his torso and across his lap.

He was embarrassed and felt bulky at having all the pillows around him, but he was reasonably comfortable, so he decided he didn't care.

Claudia was asked to walk next to his right leg to ensure that nobody came too close to it. It was extended and propped up.

They didn't want any children accidentally running into his bad leg this time.

A nurse pushed him while Claudia walked alongside his leg.

He was going to the hospital courtyard that was off of the 1st floor so he was going to have to get on the elevator and then be navigated through the hall. The courtyard was designed for patients, but they still had to go through a portion of the hospital that was populated by people other than inpatients.

House realized he should have asked if he could get out of bed sometime when the hospital wasn't so busy, but he was way too anxious to get out of his room to spend much time contemplating logistics and hall crowds.

As soon as he got out in the hall, everyone parted like the Red Sea and then stopped to stare. This was humiliating. He almost wanted to tell the nurse to turn around and take him back to his room.

Patients' family members and other patients were out in the halls and he was less than thrilled to see them.

Even staff he had never seen before stared; they were a bit more discreet, but what ever happened to professionalism?

Rigid hip spica casts and braces were used on pediatric patients, but they weren't frequently used on adults. Most people had probably never seen a hip spica on an adult.

Even though he had a tee over his shoulders, you could still see the rigid material that went up to right below his nipples. The shorts hid all his "man parts," but the part of the brace extending down his left thigh was exposed below the shorts and of course the monstrosity of brace and plaster on his right leg stuck out conspicuously in front of him. He was leaned back and felt more like an invalid than he ever had in his entire life.

Claudia pressed the elevator button and they waited for an elevator. He couldn't wait for one to get there fast enough.

Thankfully, only one other person was on the elevator so there was plenty of room. The woman was wearing a volunteer uniform and backed all the way into the corner of the elevator to make room for Claudia, the nurse, and House. They didn't need nearly that much room, but House could tell the woman felt uncomfortable around him.

The nurse carefully backed him into the elevator and Claudia resumed her place at his side.

On the 6th floor, the elevator opened again and there was one man standing there. He gave them a quick, "Hello" and entered the elevator to stand next to House normally. He decided that maybe he didn't look so bad after all.

The elevator opened again on the 4th floor and the woman's eyes widened and she quickly looked away from House and told the nurse that she would wait for the next elevator. There was more than enough room in the large hospital elevator, but she seemed to be scared of him.

This process continued on the 3rd floor as a man told them he would wait for the next elevator.

Maybe they were just trying to be polite, but it seemed more like they were scared of him.

Fortunately, he wouldn't be going through the main lobby. Once they got to the first floor, there was only a short hall before the courtyard.

People seemed to literally flatten themselves against the wall as if he needed the entire hallway. He stared down at his lap the entire way and only watched people out of his peripheral vision. He was embarrassed, but also fascinated by people's reactions.

Once they arrived at the courtyard, the nurse parked Greg next to a bench. Claudia thanked the nurse and then sat down next to Greg. His right leg was next to her and his left leg was outward toward the walkway.

House found himself constantly making sure his leg wasn't sticking out or subject to any danger. He was probably being paranoid, but he didn't think he could deal with more pain right now.

The nurse sat down a little ways away to give them some privacy, but still be ready in case he needed something and then to take him back to the room when he was ready.

There were several patients in the courtyard and he didn't feel as conspicuous here. Some of them had IVs and monitors still attached to them and there was one guy in a full leg cast. He was sitting up instead of reclined, but at least House felt like he wasn't the only person with a leg awkwardly protruding out.

"How are you doing?"

Normally this kind of question would drive him nuts, but it was somehow different with Claudia.

Perhaps it was because she really did care how he was doing and wasn't just trying to make conversation.

No point hiding it.

"Hurting, but it's worth it to get out of bed."

She held his hand just like they were an ordinary couple sitting outside on a pleasant day. At least he felt normal for a little while until his right leg felt kind of crampy. He didn't think it would start cramping up, but he still wanted to lie down and be in bed if it did happen.

"Claudia, I need to lie down."

He had been in the courtyard for less than 10 minutes, but still felt immensely better for having been outside.

Claudia stood up and motioned to the nurse. They headed back to his room again.

He wrapped his right hand around the outside of his knee and thigh. He knew his leg wasn't in danger, but he still felt the need to protect it. He rested his left elbow comfortably against the arm rest.

He tried to ignore everyone staring, but it was darn near impossible right now.

Once he was lifted onto the bed, he got them to recline him and add extra pillows. Now that his leg was up more, he realized they had headed off the potential leg cramp. He actually felt kind of good for the first time in quite a while.

He still hurt, but his mood was better.

"Thanks." He even smiled at the nurse once his central line was attached to fluids and the cardiac pads were hooked up again. He wondered if he should check his pulse - had he just SMILED at a nurse?

"Claudia, thank you."

"Okay. I'm going to go. Call me on the phone later."

"Sure."

House drifted off to sleep. Despite the increased pain from the trip, he was actually more comfortable than he had been in a while.


	61. PSA Levels

(NOTE: There is a little bit of plot/prognosis stuff in this chapter, but I sort of just let my muse run wild. There is some just plain 'chronicle' of House's life. If bodily processes bother you, I would suggest stopping a couple paragraphs in. There's nothing graphic, but I'll just give fair warning… Without further ado, on with the story!)

The next day, House started yet another dose of chemo.

Before starting chemo, the tech came to gather blood and other fluids to ensure that he was good to go.

Mathis came in not long after the blood draw.

"Your CBC shows evidence of lowered blood cell count, but not severe enough to cause us to postpone your chemo. You are definitely receiving a dose today.

Your PSA tumor markers are actually down a bit, which is quite good. Just the fact that they haven't risen is a big deal - this most likely mean that the cancer has not spread into other areas."

House waggled his fingers indicating that he wanted to see the results.

"Tomorrow I've got you scheduled for a bone scan and other imaging to ensure new bone metastasis isn't present. I also want to see how the areas in your femur and pelvis that we excised the cancer from are looking. There is a good possibility we got the cancer with your initial surgery, but the area needs to be monitored very closely. I'll send someone in to get your central line hooked up to chemo. Of course, you'll receive the oral dose two days from now as usual."

Sure enough, it took no time for the chemo to arrive. An oncology nurse usually came up to the orthopedic ward to get him hooked up and then left him in the care of the orthopedic nursing staff.

The nurses in orthopedics were accustomed to dealing with him and his _unique_ personality.

They weren't oncology nurses, but as a doctor House knew what was going on and would notice a problem right away.

It seemed like each round of chemo was harder. His hair was gone now. His mouth wasn't getting any worse, but he felt like his digestive tract was being torn apart. The anti-emetics kept the vomiting at bay, but the nausea was still awful and his gut burned like hell.

After this round of chemo, he spent most of the day groaning in bed as a nurse stood by with a bed pan. He was incredibly thankful that Wilson was out of town because he didn't think he could have withstood his hovering.

Claudia had gone somewhere with Casey for the day...he was so drained he couldn't even remember where she was.

He knew he wouldn't have wanted her around for the torrential rebellion from his bowels.

They tried an anti-diarrhea medication, but it made him feel more bloated and crampy.

He felt clammy and gross. He was no doubt getting dehydrated, so they continued to pump him full of fluids. They were making him drink fluids despite the fluids pouring in through his central line.

He really didn't think there could be much more for his body to expel, but even the fluids he drank were wreaking havoc.

He had mild diarrhea after the past dose of chemo, but this was ridiculous.

Since he didn't have this side effect initially, he was surprised it was so bad now. He knew that as his body got weaker, he would become more susceptible to side effects, but this was miserable.

He was accustomed to dealing with pain, but this was new.

He was so bloated and uncomfortable that Mathis had to call in the brace tech on emergency notice to temporarily adjust the brace around his abdomen.

He now had less support for his hip and leg so he had to be shifted even more carefully than usual by the nurses.

He was still on the orthopedic ward. He figured they were just thrilled with having to deal with his chemo side effects.

Oncology nurses dealt with this all the time, but he was having all kinds of issues that probably didn't present with as many orthopedic patients.

Mathis still wanted him in orthopedics, though. It was probably a good thing, too, because he had the staff constantly shifting him since he couldn't get comfortable.

He was too tired to even help them right now.

He felt like a limp noodle as they moved him.

That is, a limp noodle trapped inside a hard, restrictive shell.

Despite his often prickly demeanor, the orthopedics staff didn't seem to mind him and was actually quite patient.

Perhaps it was because he didn't work with them much as the genius grouch of diagnostics. They just knew him from stories and as a patient.

He had gotten to a point where he could help with turning and things were getting easier, but this was definitely worse.

All he had been needing for bodily functions was assistance balancing and positioning, but he was so exhausted now that he just set his head back and let the nurses attack him with wipes. House didn't care at this point. Everything had to be meticulously cleaned to prevent irritation of his skin or soiling of his brace and its padding.

He felt like he truly was in hell now.

HOUSE M.D.

The team had a new case today. Chase, Foreman, and Taub spent the morning arguing between courses of treatment.

They knew House was getting chemo this morning, so they figured they would try to go without his help; however, they couldn't reach an agreement.

House hadn't seemed too sick lately, so Foreman decided to go seek his input.

"House? I've got a case question."

Foreman was surprised to find a nurse sitting next to House's bed.

Claudia had been spending time with House during his chemo treatments, but he saw no sign of her.

The nurse addressed Foreman, "He's not up for visitors."

"I work for Dr. House. I just need a quick consult."

"He's not up for visitors."

House didn't protest. He couldn't really see House because of the nurse's position.

"House?"

Foreman would never admit it, but he was concerned about House. He didn't hear any grumpy protests or insults spewing from his mouth.

House had never turned down a consult due to illness or let anyone else turn it down for him in his presence.

Foreman received a protective glare from the nurse.

Protective?

"I'm also a doctor on his case."

Foreman bid the other case from his mind and picked up House's chart. The chemo appeared to have run routine with the exception of the increased nausea and bowel issues.

Foreman was thrilled to see House's PSA levels. This actually did bode well as far as his survival prognosis went.

One look at House's pallor and facial expression revealed that he wasn't feeling well at all.

He looked at the charted quantity of diarrhea House had expelled today and cringed in sympathy.

There was an open Gatorade with a straw and he was currently clutching a pillow to his stomach.

Foreman noticed immediately that the part of his brace covering his abdomen had been removed. That explained the extra pillows piled around him.

"Abdomen distended?"

"I don't know. Feels like it." House spoke with a soft groan and his eyes clinched shut.

"Cramping?"

"Yes."

"Can you move the pillow - let me look?"

House reluctantly pulled the pillow away and Foreman could see visible bloating.

He gently probed the area, but didn't feel anything indicating danger.

After a quick exam, he let House move the pillow back against his abdomen and made a couple of notes.

"If the cramps don't ease, we'll need to evaluate more critically."

Foreman could hear his stomach gurgle. Foreman ducked out as another nurse entered and they poised House over the bedpan.

Foreman winced and headed back to the conference room.

"What did House say?" Chase was eager for House's orders.

They hadn't shut down diagnostics since House had still been regularly consulting, but Chase, Foreman, and Taub were feeling very alone today.

They seemed to reach a dead end.

"He's not up for consulting. Let's move forward with treatment."

"He's not up for consulting?" Chase seemed shocked.

So far, House had yet to turn them down.

"Chemo hit him pretty hard, but he'll be okay." Foreman decided to not make any kind of big deal of it so that Chase and Taub wouldn't be tempted to go check House out.

(NOTE: PSA stands for prostate specific antigen. Lowering levels mean that his cancer counts are improving. Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated!)


	62. Priorities Apart

(Thank you all for continuing to read!)

As House went through his treatment and the following side effects, Casey went in for all the testing Dr. Wilson had ordered done prior to his follow up and chemo scheduling.

He spent a large portion of the day in imaging, getting blood drawn, etc. Dr. Wilson was out of town, but all of the testing needed to be completed prior to his appointment.

Casey could be heard all through the radiology department, "Get this show on the road! A body could die in here waiting for you people!"

He also saw his gastroenterologist. The gastro was quite pleased with Casey's progress since his stomach removal. He still needed to gain weight, but so far, so good.

Once he was finished, Claudia decided to go by Greg's room before taking Casey home. Casey couldn't drive himself as he had to be mildly sedated for one of the tests.

Claudia hated not spending chemo day with Greg as it had become their routine, but Casey had actually wanted her near him throughout testing. Claudia knew that Casey was feeling pretty good now and was no doubt nervous that he wasn't doing as well as he was feeling.

Besides, Greg assured her he would be fine.

Claudia knew he would say that no matter how he thought he would be, but she decided the scheduling conflict couldn't be avoided.

She also knew that once Casey started his therapy she might not be there for Greg as much. It pained her to think that, but Casey would be her priority then. After all, Greg was in the hospital with people to help him.

Claudia lightly tapped on Greg's door and then entered. Casey sat in the waiting room while Claudia popped in to say hello.

"Hey." Claudia approached and gave Greg a light peck on the cheek. She started to kiss his forehead, but then realized he had a cool cloth draped there.

She picked up his hand and he felt kind of warm. He looked horrible. He was even paler than usual.

"Hey, Claudia." It sounded more like a croak that Greg's normal voice.

"I've only got a minute since Casey is waiting and still groggy from sedatives, but I wanted to pop in before going home."

"How'd the testing go? I know you don't know results, but did he hold up okay?"

"Yeah. He's just groggy from sedation. He's been feeling pretty good lately."

"Good."

Greg rubbed smooth circles on Claudia's palm with his thumb. Despite the fact that he looked like crap, he could still be quite comforting. All the testing with Casey had left her nerves on edge.

"You look stressed."

As always, Greg was perceptive.

"All this testing just makes me nervous."

"It's all routine. I'm sure they'll have results for you soon."

Of course, he was actually thinking that he'd harass his team into getting the results quicker.

"Go be with Casey."

Claudia gently caressed Greg's bald scalp before giving him another kiss on the cheek and leaving the room.

House was thrilled to see Claudia, but he was relieved to see her go at that moment as he felt another wave of cramps surge through his gut. No diahrea this time, but the discomfort was atrocious.

How you could feel hot, cold, sweaty, chilled, and clammy all it once he would never understand. House only knew he was feeling it.

He reached awkwardly toward the table to dip the cloth in the basin of cool ice water the nurse had left. He wringed it out and draped it back over his forehead.

He wondered if he might have a fever. He glanced toward the monitor and saw 100.1 F. It was a slight fever, but not enough to be considered abnormal for the day of a chemo treatment.

He reached for the Gatorade and took several small sips through the straw and then replaced it on the night table. He made a mental note to ask the nurse to pull his table closer next time one came in.

He knew a nurse would help him with the cooling compresses on his face and such, but he really didn't want a practical stranger in here right now. He really didn't want anyone in here right now. Thankfully, Wilson was out of town and Claudia was at home.

Wilson was returning at some point tonight, but hopefully he would go straight home and would not feel the need to come up to the hospital and harass House.

Wilson trudged through the Princeton airport to gather his baggage and get his things home. He would have liked to have collapsed onto the bed, but he knew that House had gone through another dose of chemo today and he had to know how he was holding up.

As much as he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to put his obsessive mind to rest until he knew how House was doing.

After parking his reliable Volvo in the parking lot, he headed up to House's room.

The lights were dim and House was asleep. His right leg was propped up and pillows were tucked around his body.

He was paler, but that wasn't abnormal for a patient undergoing chemo. Of course, Wilson had only been gone a few days. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, but he was reassured to see House still there.

There weren't any shorts awkwardly stretched over House's brace today. There was just a towel laid across his groin. That meant he definitely didn't leave the room today. Well, that wasn't overly surprising.

There were several extra hospital towels spread underneath House's rear and there was an extra bedside table sitting to the side that was stocked with wipes, cream, gauze, extra towels, and several disposable bed pans. Yuck, Wilson knew what that meant.

He grabbed House's chart - sure enough. He would never show it while House was awake, but he really felt for him right now. The sheet was down and Wilson could see that his abdomen was swollen and part of his brace had been removed to allow room for the bloating.

House was scheduled for bone scans and imaging the next day.

Wilson decided to leave House be for now - no reason to wake the bear if he was asleep.

HOUSE MD FANFIC

House slept for short intervals throughout the evening. He had many false alarms and a final bout of loose discharge that was a major production to deal with because of his brace.

Around midnight, the cramps finally started to subside and it seemed this round of diarrhea might finally be over.

By morning, his abdomen was still swollen and painful, but he was now just passing embarrassing amounts of gas. Mathis came to check on him.

With the number of people probing his swollen abdomen, he wondered if this is what it might feel like to be a pregnant woman with everyone wanting to touch.

He knew they were just making sure it didn't feel like there were any obstructions, but nonetheless he wanted to yell, 'Paws off!'

Mathis did end up postponing his bone scans and imaging until late afternoon so that he might be more comfortable. He still had the abdomen plate from his brace off and she wanted that back on before taking him to imaging. She still didn't want him moving much without the extra support for his hip and leg.

He had this mental image of her contacting radiology to postpone because the patient was experiencing 'excess flatulence'

He could totally picture Mathis saying that. House had a private chuckle envisioning this.

Gosh, he was amused by the smallest things these days!

He knew that if he were one of his own patients, he would send them on to radiology and tell them to suck it up and deal with it. He was never one to take the comfort of his patients into consideration.

Well, it was a good thing he wasn't his own doctor.

The nurses helped him move around some this morning in hopes that the movement would help him clear up the 'excess flagellance.' He knew from yesterday that anti-gas meds would just make him feel crampy, so he had to let it run its course.

He was embarrassed by the loud noises as he was shifted and almost felt bad for the staff...almost.

It was actually kind of amusing to watch them try to keep pleasant, or at least neutral, expressions on their faces. They were probably cringing inwardly.

He knew the NSAIDS he was taking weren't helping matters, but he would be in too much pain without them. It was a fine balance in finding the lesser of two evils.

Wilson tapped on House's door mid-morning and entered.

"How you doing?"

"Delightful. I haven't felt this good since the first few days after my infarction. I think I feel even better than I did then."

House's voice was just a soft croak, but the sarcasm was thick and heavy.

"Sorry I asked."

House sighed deeply and glared at Wilson.

"The chemo was harder this time. My gut hurts. I feel like I've been crushed by a steamroller. I've had them shifting me so much to change positions and try to ease the cramps in my gut that my leg is killing me. I feel like I could sleep for a year, but I can only actually get to sleep in short bursts. My temperature regulation is shot to Hell. I haven't had any more diarrhea since late last night, but my whole abdomen is hurting."

Wilson was floored when House actually answered his question. It was reluctant, but an answer nonetheless.

"I can tell it's distended." Wilson grabbed gloves and approached House's abdomen.

House gingerly wrapped his forearm around his abdomen. "I've been groped enough. You're not touching."

"House. I'm a doctor. Part of being a patient is being examined by doctors."

"Well, I'm sick of being a damn patient - no touching!"

"If it's not better by this afternoon, we'll need to ultrasound to check for problems."

"Wilson, you're an oncologist. You know this is a common side effect of chemo. There's no need to make a freakin' production of it. You wouldn't freak out if I were any other patient!"

House was yelling and trying to sit up. Wilson looked at the monitor and saw that his heart rate was quickly climbing.

He also noticed that someone had turned off the alarm on the monitor. Gee, no telling who might have done that.

"You know, these things have alarms for a reason."

"Yeah - to make all kinds of racket when you don't want to hear it."

Wilson switched it back on.

"Take a deep breath. You don't need to be having a cardiac incident. Your body is under too much stress as it is."

House was actually attempting to take deep breaths.

House did have a point. The bloating and abdominal swelling was a perfectly natural side effect of chemo and there really wasn't cause to freak out at this point. He just didn't like seeing his best friend this miserable.

Wilson also noticed the bruise that indicated House had another hormone anti-antagonist injection while he was out of town. That would definitely account for some of this emotional reaction. No need to point this out to House, though, he would just get more agitated.

As House attempted to breathe deeply and his heart rate calmed again, Wilson commented, "I know it's a normal side effect, but you're not a normal patient. You're my friend and"

"Oh Wilson, you're 'friends' with all your patients."

"AND you've had enough health crises over the years that everything has to be taken seriously."

House knew Wilson had a point, but he didn't want to acknowledge it.

Wilson made a note in House's chart.

"See you later, House."

No response.

HOUSE MD FANFIC

Later that afternoon, they moved forward with the bone scan. He was still bloated, but they placed the abdominal plate back on his brace to keep him stable and carefully fastened the Velcro without tightening it all the way. The techs were rewarded with a very loud 'breaking of wind.'

"Too tight?" The tech looked slightly mortified.

"Now that that's out, nope."

It actually felt quite satisfying to put other people in awkward situations. It seemed like he was always the one feeling awkward, but this was entertaining.

The tech stopped tightening and they carefully loaded him into his wheelchair. He was tired, weak, and in pain, but the imaging was still scheduled.

As he was pushed to radiology, he knew people were staring, but he felt so cruddy right now that he didn't care.

A sizeable portion of the afternoon was consumed in radiology before House was gently settled back in bed. Dr. Mathis would probably be in to discuss the results first thing in the morning. As a doctor, he hated being a patient - but there were perks to being a hospitalized department head. It seemed that all his tests were expedited.

He had to admit that the staff here was pretty dang good.

He would never admit it, but he had developed a new respect for nurses, Cans, and orderlies.

Reviews are appreciated immensely!


	63. Plans

(NOTE: After extensive research into adjuvant treatments for stomach cancer, my head is left spinning. I have done my best to portray this accurately, but there are probably errors. Since Casey's illness isn't the central part of the story, I'm going to run with what I do understand and move on with the rest of the story. So, if you are displeased by inaccuracies, please just look past it to the rest of the story or don't read. I appreciate all of the reviews you guys have left!)

Casey went in to see Dr. Wilson as House went through imaging. He was scheduled for a follow up and to make a schedule for his final treatments that would be given as an adjuvant therapy to lower the chances of the cancer returning.

Claudia came as well.

It was agreed upon that he would go through a three week course of oral chemotherapy.

Since the cancer was no longer active, they were not using near as aggressive treatment.

He would take the first dose at the hospital and remain under observation for 24 hours. If there were no complications, he would finish out the treatment at home with weekly check ups with Dr. Wilson. Chances of complications were minimal.

Chances of hair loss and other side effects were not as large or dramatic as with more aggressive chemo medications. The main side effect anticipated was fatigue

Casey knew Greg's hair was gone at this point and he relished the opportunity he would have to taunt him about the fact that he would probably be keeping his own hair.

HOUSE M.D.

Wilson headed into work the next morning to find a meeting request from Mathis.

There was no need to guess who the patient was.

He called her to check that she was available and headed up to her office.

She already had scans on the light boards and results spread all over the place.

"No sign of remaining cancer or tumor regrowth in his pelvic girdle. There are still sizeable remnants at his right femur, but no sign of regrowth of the masses excised."

Mathis was pointing at results.

"I think that the chemo will take care of the rest of this on his right femur, but it just hasn't been long enough. In the grand scheme of things, he's not very far into the chemo process."

That was scary to think about based on his current condition.

"I would like to see if we can get him to a point where he can spend some time at home. The prolonged hospital stay and level of inactivity is affecting his mood and will only branch into depression."

"Yeah, but how-"

"Wilson, allow me to finish. Since there is no regrowth of cancer in his hip and he's got a light layer of fracture callus formed there, I think we might be safe to remove the bracing on his left leg. Right now he's in the 1 1/2 hip spica brace, but I think he would be okay with the single hip-"

"You think? You think - what, does that mean he might get re-injured?"

"Shut up, Wilson."

Mathis's curt response actually surprised Wilson.

He knew he could be overbearing in matters involving House, but it still surprised him.

"We have to look at a benefits vs. risks scenario here. I think he would be okay with the single hip spica. He would still have the brace up to his nipple line and the full right leg. The rigid bracing with his torso attached to the right leg would still provide support for the hip and right leg. It will still extend around the left hip area, but he will have free movement of his left leg. The right leg and the fracture at the shaft and head of his femur are my primary orthopedic concerns at this time. Originally, the brace extended on his left leg to ensure that he wouldn't have any shifting or movement of his hip/pelvis until it started healing. His pelvis has started to heal. Unfortunately, with the chemo killing off all growing cells, healing of the bones has come to a bit of a halt for the time being. Healing and bone regrowth should continue once the chemo is stopped, but he's going to have to remain in the brace and non-weight bearing for a span of time as his body cannot fight the cancer, endure the treatments, and heal his leg. If he is forced to stay in the hospital for an indeterminable amount of time, he may become increasingly depressed and lose motivation. Do you agree, Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes. I think if we could set him up for conference calls with his staff and he could be at home, he would probably do better. I don't know if he has enough mobility to go home, though."

"Well, if he has free movement of his left leg that will make a big difference. He's lost very little muscle mass there with his ongoing physical therapy. Once he gets range of motion back in his left leg, he can use that leg to help with moving himself and should be able to support his weight enough for toilet use with the aid of bars and a walker. He can use the wheelchair for getting around and then work on using a walker to transfer from the wheelchair. Granted, I don't want him ambulating with just the walker, but he can use it as an aid for transfers. The brace on his torso will present a challenge for ambulating, but with use of his left leg I think the occupational and physical therapists can help him work around that. He will require the assistance of a home health aide and will always need someone to help with transfers because he isn't able to lift his leg because of the weight and weakness of his right thigh muscles and the pain it would cause in his entire leg and hip. He would also have a visiting physical and respiratory therapist. He will most likely want to try to do these things on his own, but in order for this to work he will have to be willing to allow people to help him in his home."

This was starting to sound doable.

"Dr. Mathis, with the toll this round of chemo has taken on his body, do you think he's going to be able to keep up the treatment every week?"

"That's another concern. Depending on recovery time from this dose and his CBC count, he may have to go with every other week, thus extending the period of time he'll be receiving chemo."

"The additional time between treatments might allow for some healing in his mouth, which might improve his dietary intake and quality of life." Wilson threw this in.

"I would agree, Dr. Wilson. There could be advantages there. As far as his support system goes, would you be willing to help him in the process of becoming outpatient?"

"Of course."

"What about other support?"

"I think some, if not all, of his team would be supportive."

"Family?"

"His mom is still living, but would be of little use to help him at home or provide emotional support. She cares about him, but is not equipped to cope with the situation. No siblings or other relatives he is close to."

"What about his girlfriend, Claudia? I've seen her around a lot."

Wilson turned a little dark at this.

"I don't know that much about their relationship, but I get the impression she would be supportive. Her brother is going to be starting treatment soon, though. He's only schedule for a three week course, though."

"Okay. Let's go ahead and talk to him about the bone scan results. He's not going to be happy to know that he's in a holding pattern with the leg healing, but once we get the brace off his left leg he'll have a lot more freedom. I'm going to get his physical therapist to come when we remove the left leg portion so that she can be present to check his range of motion."

Mathis and Wilson both went to see House and found Claudia sitting in the room chatting with him.

He had the straps on the abdominal part of the brace loosened and still looked uncomfortable and pale, but looked a bit better than the past couple of days.

"Hello, Dr. House. We need to talk about some prognosis information and do some planning. Would you like to do that alone?"

Mathis, ever the professional doctor, was discretely asking if he wanted Claudia there.

Wilson watched as House and Claudia exchanged glances. Sure enough, Claudia gave him a slight smile and 'encouraging' look.

She would definitely be supportive.

"She can stay."

Mathis proceeded to relay all the same information to House.

House was practically salivating at the opportunity to be out of the hospital, even if it was just for short bursts at a time.

Wilson could tell that House was stuck somewhere between pouty that Mathis was making him keep the brace on, angry at his body, and thrilled with the possibility of leaving the hospital.

"I definitely want your physical therapist's approval before moving forward with anything, but she has indicated that you spending some time at home with accommodations might be good for you. I'll let Dr. Wilson and an occupational therapist work with you on living accommodations. Keep in mind, this is not something happening immediately. We need to make sure that you're prepared for this and that your left leg is okay. You will definitely need to be inpatient for the chemo treatments. Dr. House, in order for this to work, you will need to be fully compliant with requirements set by your care team or you are not going anywhere. You will definitely be sent home with a heart monitor and possibly IV fluids."

"In other words, you just want to transplant the hospital room and me into my apartment?'

House's response sounded snarky, but Wilson and Claudia could both tell it was hiding disappointment of some kind.

"If you're not interested-"

"No, I am." He jumped to clarify that statement.

"That's what I figured. The physical therapist will be in shortly."

Mathis and Wilson left, but Claudia stayed.

"This is good news, Greg. Even if you can only be home for a little while between chemo, that would be great."

"I want to do that, but it would be difficult."

"I'd be willing to stay with you and I know Wilson would help you, too." Claudia gave him a peck on the forehead and a playful little nip to his ear lobe in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Ugh, but you don't understand." House was so frustrated that Claudia's playful affections were not working and he just shook her off.

"I always need help. Even the things I can do, sometimes I get so tired that I can't do them. When I'm here it's a staff of people who are paid to help me - it's their job. So, it's not as hard anymore to let them help. It's different to think of my best friend or my girlfriend helping me handle embarrassing crud I can't do for myself or I'm too tired to do myself."

"What you don't understand is that people that care about you want to help you."

"As much as I want to go home, I'll be a burden."

"No, we WANT to help you. It's not like Wilson and I would mind."

Claudia still didn't have an overly good read on Wilson or Wilson's feelings toward her, but she could tell he would be supportive of House.

"You need to give your time to Casey right now."

"He only has a short period of treatment. Besides, you have a guest room. If he wants, he could stay there."

"I don't know."

"You don't have to decide anything now."

"Okay."

After a heavy sigh, Greg reached up and started to massage her neck with his long, limber fingers.

"Oh my gosh..." He had already found so many of her 'pleasure spots' and they hadn't even had sex. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to make love to him.

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "If you're at home, we can have a lot more fun."

Claudia saw his immediate doubtful expression.

"Stop worrying. We'll find a way. We can be CREATIVE." Her voice was sultry and seductive, easily drawing a lecherous smirk from Greg.

(I know some of you guys wanted him out of the brace already, but I'm trying to maintain a logical medical timeline relating his chemo and cancer into the healing process. Don't worry, though, he will still have plenty of excitement in his life. Who knows, the creativity involved might be interesting! By the way, I created a guest room in House's apartment to serve my own purposes. It is fiction after all! Reviews are greatly appreciated!)


	64. Left Leg

(Thank you for all your comments! Here is a nice long chapter. Reminder: House has just received news that the left leg portion of his brace will be removed.)

Claudia left for a while, but his physical therapist soon showed up with an orthopedic technician.

"So, I hear we're working towards getting you home."

His therapist was normally not too obnoxiously cheery, but today her expression was a bit much.

"Yeah, that's great. Tone down the cheer a bit. You're going to give me a headache."

"Fine. Most patients like the cheerful encouragement."

"Guess what? I'm not most patients. Get this thing off me."

"I'm propping some extra pillows under your left thigh here to keep it in place once the brace is off. Once the brace is gone, I'll go through some gentle range of motion to see what we've got. Unless there is swelling, I'll put the heating pad on your left hip and thigh. That'll ease the muscles a bit. Right now, I'm concerned about joint stiffness and muscle aches. If there's swelling, we'll go with ice. There shouldn't be any swelling. I'm going to leave you with the tech and he's going to take this off. Once it's off, I'll evaluate you."

"Hello, Dr. House. My name's Steve and I'll be-"

"Good to meet ya' Steve. Get on with it." House was ready to prod Steve along and get it over with.

"I'll remove the brace by unscrewing these places right here." He pointed to places on the brace. He wanted to tell him to shut up and get it off, but he knew he would say these things whether House wanted to hear them or not.

"Then I'll cut through the padding and liner.

"Okay."

He finally undid the screw fasteners attaching the left leg brace to his hip and then unscrewed it across the top so that he could slip it off.

"I'm going to lift your thigh to slip this over your knee. Extend your knee a bit."

House watched him slip the bracing material off and was assaulted with the disgusting smell of his own stale sweat. Yuck!

He knew that his temperature regulation was way off with the chemo and he had been sweating profusely despite feeling chilled.

"Ill cut through this now."

Steve snipped through the soft padding and then the liner. He left a little liner and padding at the edge of the brace and folded it up over the edge so there wouldn't be a scratchy edge.

"I'm going to put some strips of moleskin tape over this padding and liner at the edge so that it won't be uncomfortable against your skin."

House watched as he slowly and neatly cut strips and covered the area with some flesh toned moleskin material.

"If I tuck a pillow under your rear to get some working space under here, will you be okay?"

"Yep. It's my right leg that's so screwed up. I'll be fine. Get on with it."

House knew he was fragile, but he was tired of being handled like a piece of Swarovski crystal that would shatter at any moment.

He suppressed a wince as Steve tucked a pillow and his weight shifted a bit before he was able to adjust away from his right leg.

Sadly, this was all too true. Everything hurt. He knew everyone did have to be incredibly careful with his right leg and hip to avoid danger to the weakened bones. There was bone erosion in the area and there were still remnants of cancer causing additional weakness and vulnerability in the area. Some of the pain was explained by the remnants of cancer in his femoral shaft.

Of course, the achy feeling from chemo didn't help matters.

"I'm slipping my hand behind your hip to support you as I removed the pillow."

"You're not going to break me as long as you stay away from my right side. Get on with it!"

The tech must have been instructed by Mathis and the physical therapist to be really careful with him.

"I'll send the physical therapist in now. Good luck."

It was a weird sensation. His left leg felt stiff, but it didn't hurt or feel tender at all. Of course, his left side was just serving as support for his right. Now his torso brace would provide the support.

"Feel good to get that off?"

"Yep."

He watched as the physical therapist gloved up.

"I'll send a nurse in with supplies to help you get your left thigh cleaned up a bit once I test ROM. The skin isn't irritated - that's good."

"It's just flaky, smelly, and nasty looking."

"I sure am glad you're looking at the positive here."

He did enjoy his therapist's sarcasm at times. She had dropped her overly cheerful persona, which was a relief for House.

"I'm going to grasp your left thigh here and slowly raise it so that your knee is coming up to your body. Let me know if it gets too painful or uncomfortable."

His therapist knew at this point that Dr. House was unlikely to tell her about pain until it was out of control. She usually used the heart monitor, tension in his body, and his facial expressions to gauge his actual pain or discomfort level.

"Relax the muscle and let me do the work."

He thought the movement might be stiff or painful, but this actually felt heavenly.

"Pain?"

"No, it's okay." She was watching his face the whole time and it did back up his words.

"Bringing your leg back down and then up again."

The therapist proceeded to then pull pillows out from under his leg and lower it to the bed.

"This is good. Don't move your leg aggressively today because you'll make yourself sore tomorrow. There's no swelling, so I'm going to drape this heating pad to keep the muscles loose and avoid cramping. It needs to be removed after about 30 minutes."

HOUSE M.D.

After 30 minutes, a nurse came to remove the heating pad. She helped him wipe the leg down with warm water and used a gentle soap. She toweled him dry and moved the towel that was tucked over his groin and worked a pair of shorts over his right leg.

It was very nice that he could now put his left leg through the hole without having to adjust it and work it over his brace.

He pulled the shorts the rest of the way up.

It was great to stretch his left leg out and relax the muscles without having it at a specific angle to his torso. He could relax his leg flat on the bed or bring his foot up so that it was flat on the bed with his leg comfortably bent at his knee.

The best part was that he would probably be able to help move himself more.

He was exhausted. It didn't make any sense because he hadn't actually done anything. He just remained awake and listened and let them manipulate his body around.

No matter what he did, or didn't do, he was exhausted. Chemotherapy was just plain cruddy.

Considering his PSA levels, though, it was doing its job.

HOUSE M.D. FANFIC

His left leg was comfy and he didn't have any more stomach cramps, so he reached for the phone to call Wilson.

Mid-afternoon, Wilson received a call from within the hospital.

"Dr. Wilson."

"I want some macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, and meatloaf - no peppers, no spices, light on the tomatoes. Get it from the same place you got me that custard shake."

A blunt, harsh demand from House - it was strangely comforting.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

Wilson realized he already heard the dial tone. Oh, House didn't even wait for a response.

Considering House's stomach pain, it was actually a good sign that he wanted food. He had actually made a pretty reasonable request and was actually taking his condition into consideration. He wasn't asking for Chinese food, pizza, or hot Thai curry.

Wilson really didn't want to deal with the overly cheerful lady at that dinner. With his luck, she'd remember him and strike up a conversation about House or her son's foot boils.

He thought about making the food himself just to avoid her, but something probably wouldn't be quite right. House would get mad and refuse to eat it.

Then it hit him - perfect solution. Wilson wrote everything down, wrote down directions to the diner, and headed to diagnostics next door. He could probably sucker one of House's employees into doing it.

"Chase, you busy?"

"Nope. Waiting on test results."

"Would you be willing to pick something up for House?"

"Sure. What does he need?"

"I wrote it down. Here's the address where you can get it. They're really fast - shouldn't take long at all."

"Food? I thought you meant like something from his apartment"

"He hasn't been eating well lately. If he's actually willing to eat something... His health can't really go with missing too many meals."

Chase's expression softened. Wilson didn't want his employees knowing House wasn't doing well, but they could see for themselves and knew he was receiving chemotherapy.

"Okay. I'll go grab this before our test results come in."

"Great. Thanks, Chase. I'm sure House will appreciate it."

"Yeah." He would no doubt find something to berate Chase for.

"Chase grabbed his bag and headed out."

He dialed Foreman on his cell phone.

"I'm going to run a quick errand for House. I'll be back before the test results are in."

Foreman wouldn't admit it, but he was immediately worried. "What's wrong? What does he need?"

"Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, and bland meatloaf."

"At least he feels like eating."

"Yeah. I'll be back soon."

(As always, thanks for reading. Comments make me feel inspired and often result in sooner updates…)


	65. Casey Heading Out

(NOTE: New chapter! Thank you all for your reviews – I appreciate every one of them. You have successfully prodded me on to post another chapter.)

Today the therapist was going to come by to work with him on transferring into the wheelchair.

The goal was to get him down to only needing one person to help him transfer. It had been taking 2-3 people to get him safely in and out of the wheelchair, but as use of his left leg improved, they were hoping he could transfer with only 1 person assisting.

The therapist had a sturdy walker in tow. The walker was situated so that he could use it as support to get from the bed to the wheelchair. The primary job of the person assisting him was to support his leg and settle it onto the leg rest while balancing and compensating for the lack of mobility in his torso. Right now, there were still extra people on hand to make sure he didn't fall if something went wrong.

The therapist helped him get situated with his pillows as House fastened the strap around his torso and across his lap. The therapist fastened another strap around his plaster cast to ensure that his leg stayed firmly in place on the pillows and leg rest.

"Okay. How do you feel?"

"Good." House was sore and tired from the transfer, but he wasn't about to tell the therapist. He wanted to get out of the hospital and he suspected they wouldn't let him leave if movement caused too much pain.

Over the years, he had become fairly good at sucking it up and hiding pain.

"Before we can consider transitioning you home, we need to get you totally comfortable with bed and toilet transfers. Do you want to start going over toilet transfers today?"

"Yep."

Toilet transfers were more complicated than the bed transfer and were physically taxing for House. Due to his weakness, brace around his torso, and his body's angle with his leg, he couldn't balance himself and had to have someone to keep him upright while his leg rested in the wheelchair's seat.

He didn't know how people who used wheelchairs could do this every day.

This sort of stuff was hard after the infarction, but this makes that look like a walk in the park. Dealing with the infarction mobility issues actually did give him a bit of a head start on knowledge regarding wheelchair use and transfers.

Once he was back in his wheelchair and panting the therapist decided to call it quits for the day and got nurses to help get him back in bed so that he could get some rest.

HOUSE M.D.

Casey was starting his chemo meds today and would be spending the night on the oncology ward for observation.

House only saw Claudia briefly.

Casey was doing well and showing no abnormal reaction. He felt queasy and tired, but there was nothing alarming going on.

He would probably get to go home the next morning. House wished he had such a predictable timeline.

Casey knew exactly how many doses he would receive, how long it would take, and then he'd be done. He knew he was going home the next day. The chances of an abnormal reaction at this point were next to none, but the ever-responsible Dr. Wilson ordered him to spend the night anyway.

"Doc, if I'm not having a reaction at this point, can't I just go home and sleep?"

"This is just a precaution."

"I don't believe in taking precautionary measures. I DO KNOW that my mattress is more comfortable than this one; however, I DON'T know that I'm going to have a reaction. I believe in the sure thing - which is my comfy bed at home."

"It really wouldn't be a good idea-"

"Can't I just go AMA?"

"Well, technically I can't stop you-" Wilson looked apprehensive.

"Casey, don't do this." Claudia did not like the sound of this.

"If I get sick, I'll come back. If I get really sick, I'll dial 911."

"That's so comforting." Claudia's sarcasm was thick, which only drew a scowl from Casey.

"Dr. Wilson, bring the paperwork."

"Casey, I really think-"

"Can it! Bring the paperwork."

"I'll be right back."

Wilson disappeared leaving only a cheerful Casey and an angry Claudia.

"Claudia, will you hand me my clothes?"

"Nope. Since you're feeling so great, you can grab them yourself."

As she spoke, Casey was already removing his IV and taping a piece of gauze over the puncture. Thankfully the nurses kept all kinds of handy things available.

With a sigh, Casey collected his clothes and began to change.

He was beat by the time he was dressed, but he had a short breather before Wilson returned.

"What happened to your IV?"

Dr. Wilson seemed surprised to find Casey already sitting on the edge of the bed with no IV.

"Removed it."

"Patients really aren't supposed to-"

Once he saw Casey's 'I don't care' facial expression, he let his words taper off.

Wilson gave him plenty of safety warnings as Casey plopped himself in the wheelchair to leave.

"I guess I'll pull the car around."

Claudia rolled her eyes at Casey's stubborn eagerness to leave the hospital and went to get the car.

In all honesty, Claudia was downright mad at Casey right now. Maybe Casey didn't mind taking the risk, but if something went wrong, she would be the one who would have to deal with it.

She understood that he hated hospitals and didn't want to be there, but he only needed to deal with it for 24 hours.

As she brought the car around, a nurse appeared with Casey in the obligatory wheelchair and his bag resting on his lap.

He threw his bag in the back seat and climbed in before Claudia had time to say a word.

"I know you're ticked, but I'm fine." Casey groused.

"You better tell me if you start feeling abnormal at all."

"Yeah, Sis."

They made the short drive to their apartment and headed in. Casey grabbed some water and went straight to bed.

"Leave your door open and holler if you have any problems."

"Whatever."

Casey had a tendency to be indifferent to how he felt and it sometimes drove Claudia nuts.

Claudia took a shower herself and then bedded down on the couch near Casey's room. She set her phone on vibrate so that she would be woken up partway through the night so that she could check on Casey.

She was emotionally and physical exhausted and drifted right to sleep.

After an uneventful night, Casey came out to the living room to find Claudia already up and making coffee.

Claudia came over, nudged him onto the couch, and stuck a thermometer in his mouth.

"No fever." Claudia muttered.

"Surprise, surprise. There wasn't a huge risk of severe side effects."

Claudia's fingers were already checking Casey's pulse against her watch. She had been through enough medical crud with Casey to know she should be cautious.

"Breathing okay?"

"Yes, but that coffee smells nauseating."

"If you were still in the hospital you wouldn't have to smell it."

"Great, you're still mad at me."

"Nope. What do you think you can eat?"

"Nothing."

"Not an option. You're going to at least try a few bites of banana and toast whether you like it or not. Did you drink all of the fluids last night?"

"Yep, already started another one."

Claudia watched Casey force down a few bites of banana and toast before he sprawled out on the couch to watch TV.

She returned the dishes to the kitchen and sat down to keep an eye on him.

"Are you seriously going to sit there and watch me all day?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Claudia took a moment to seriously contemplate Casey's condition. Chemo had hit Casey so hard last time that she was expecting much worse as far as side effects went.

Of course, this was an adjuvant preventative therapy.

"Your color looks fine."

"That's because I'm fine. Again, the chance of side effects is lower than the other chemo I've had."

After staring at him for a few minutes, Claudia proceeded to get out her laptop to get some work done. She continued to observe Casey out of the corner of her eye, but nothing about him seemed alarming.

"Claudia, you're going to stress yourself enough to raise your blood pressure. I'm obviously going to be okay. Go do something! You should get out of the house. Heck, go see Greg. I'm sure he'd like to see you. Isn't he getting out of the hospital soon? He's a lot sicker. Go worry over an annoy him!"

Thanks for reading. Reviews give me the warm fuzzies!


	66. Beat This

(NOTE: Thank you all for continuing to read my humble story. Your support and time means a lot to me. All reviews are appreciated.)

It was the 5th day since his most recent chemo treatment and House felt like he'd been hit by a Mac truck.

After getting some breakfast down, he knew the therapist would be here any moment.

He felt too tired, but knew he had to keep working if he was going to get to go home.

The therapist showed up and positioned both the wheelchair and the walker so that House could get ready to transfer himself with assistance.

The therapist narrated the process as they went and House was soon settled in the wheelchair with straps fastened and his leg secured.

He had already been through the process and remembered how to transfer, but therapists obviously seem to enjoy talking to themselves. (Or else they actually followed procedures of keeping patients informed - people out there actually did that? Who knew?)

"I got clearance from Mathis to let you try to propel yourself for short distances, so I'm going to walk next to your right leg for safety, but you push."

House wasn't sure if he could do this with the height of the brace and his current fatigue, but he tried anyway.

"Let's go ahead into the hall and take a lap of the ward."

House held up pretty well about halfway across the room, but was miserably tired by the time he reached his room's door. He continued to push himself, but the fatigue increased.

The angle of his back and lack of movement made pushing very uncomfortable and tiring.

As his speed slowed, the therapist went to the back of his chair.

"Move your hands. Let me."

He probably could have made it a bit further by himself, but he easily surrendered to the therapist pushing him.

"Do you need to use the restroom?"

"No."

They completed the lap around the ward with the therapist pushing and House was once again parked next to his bed.

"Do you feel like trying to transfer, or do you want the nurses and me to do it."

"I want to try."

He had done bed to wheelchair transfers, and wheelchair to toilet and back transfers, but had yet to do his own wheelchair to bed transfer.

"I'll get a nurse for good measure to spot you and I'll help, but I want you to do as much of the transfer as possible."

Several grunts and groans later, House was on the bed. He basically sagged back and was too exhausted to help rearrange the pillows. (Not that he could lean over and help anyway)

The nurse was still holding his leg up.

Another nurse was getting him hooked up to the heart monitor again.

"Let me get the pillows arranged. Relax, Dr. House. Your heart rate is somewhat high."

The nurse calmly got House propped up again as the therapist made some notes in House's file.

"Are you feeling any tightness in your chest or do you think that the heart rate change is the result of pain?"

"Yeah. It's not getting high enough to be a concern." House was sure there was nothing actually wrong with his heart, he was just tired and in pain.

"Okay. Get some rest."

As tired as he was, House felt way too agitated to sleep.

Based on today's experience, he wasn't sure if Mathis would ever let him go home.

He had no idea what the therapist wrote in his file. Perhaps, "The patient was tired and pathetic by the time he reached the door when attempting to propel himself" seemed like a likely phrase.

He would have liked to read his chart, but it was at the foot of his bed and he couldn't shift forward to reach it.

Mathis came bustling in a few minutes later.

"I spoke with your therapist and it sounds like your transfers went well this morning."

Apparently his definition of 'went well' and the therapist's definition were quite different.

She was now skimming his chart.

"You were even able to propel yourself out into the hall?"

"Yeah."

"Good for you."

"Looks like you did a toilet transfer yesterday."

Mathis seemed irrationally pleased with his pathetic attempts at ambulating.

"I even used the toilet. Do I get a gold star?"

Mathis ignored him.

"I see there was a jump in your heart rate earlier. I'm not overly surprised - are you in a lot of pain?"

House considered lying, but decided that wouldn't be a good choice - Mathis wasn't blind.

"Yeah."

"I'm going to order a partial dose of pain meds to tide you over to your next dose. That should help take the edge off. You may need more pain relief for a while as your body gets used to the movement. If your heart rate should jump like that when you're at home, it is very important that you stop and take deep breaths. Let whoever is with you know. I don't anticipate serious complications, but we have to be careful because you have had 3 heart attacks."

'Careful' seemed to be the story of House's life right now.

House was eager to chip in, "Not because of heart disease, but from the infarction and then doing stupid things."

Mathis was ignoring him again.

"Low grade fever, your pallor is not good." Mathis continued to assess him.

"Very low grade fever. Chemo side effects." House was quick to clarify.

"Achy?"

"Yeah."

"Is it easy for you to distinguish chemo side effects and feelings that might mean something else? Think carefully."

Mathis was definitely a BS detector.

"Yeah. I can tell the difference. I've had enough doses to know. Some of my pain has nothing to do with chemo - it's the broken bones and just my leg."

"Okay. Good."

"Good that I'm in pain?" House had to laugh at this one.

He knew what she meant, but still enjoyed her frustration as he twisted her words.

"No. It's good that you can distinguish different types of pain. That's a nice thing about having a doctor for a patient. I wouldn't consider letting you go home if you weren't a doctor and your best friend wasn't a doctor. If I let you go home, I need to know for sure that you will let Dr. Wilson, your home aide, or me know immediately if you are feeling odd or experiencing any symptoms."

House was often one to hide his pain or medical issues, but he knew he was going to have to be up front here. He wanted to beat this cancer and was willing to do anything within his power to make that happen.


	67. Getting Closer

(Note: Thank you all for reading and supporting this story. You guys mean a lot to me as a writer!)

After checking and double checking with Casey that his cell phone was charged and within reach, Claudia prepared to go up to the hospital and see Greg.

As much as she loved Casey, she didn't think she could stand another moment with him.

He was doing fine and didn't need to be babysat and she desperately needed some time for herself.

She wanted to spend that time with Greg.

Claudia tapped on his door and waited just as she always did.

Greg nodded her in with a slight smile.

His pallor still wasn't good and he looked very sickly, but he was looking better than before. He was wearing a beanie to keep his head warm and had the blankets up over his bent up left leg.

Wait! Bent leg? He didn't have bracing on his left leg!

Claudia pulled the covers back.

"You got the brace off your left leg."

She couldn't resist running a hand up his left thigh.

"Yeah."

She actually got a real, honest to goodness smile out of Greg.

"More comfortable?"

"Definitely."

When she saw Greg's body shiver, she pulled the covers back up.

Claudia noticed the wheelchair and walker parked near his bed.

As if reading her mind Greg jumped in, "I can now transfer into the chair with help from the walker and one other person. I'm going to get to go home."

"Still non weight-bearing?"

"Yeah."

That was apparently the wrong thing to ask as she could see Greg's eyes darkening.

"I can't use a walker or crutches to actually walk. I have to use the wheelchair. The walker is just to help me balance and transfer myself."

"Is your apartment going to be accessible?"

"Yeah, it is pretty accessible. Doors are wide enough for a wheelchair. The floors are hardwood and tile. I'm going to need to have more bars added to the toilet area. It's going to look ridiculous, but I want to go home. I'll also need one of those stupid portable ramps outside of my apartment building. There are a few steps and a curb. Wilson's making the arrangements."

"I'm going to be right back. I need to get something to drink."

House thought it was fairly odd for Claudia to suddenly leave, but figured it was nothing to worry about.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia hadn't been up to Wilson's office other than Casey's appointments, but she was headed up now.

She knocked on his door and waited.

"Come in."

Wilson's pleasant voice ushered her in.

"Hello."

"Oh, Claudia. How nice to see you."

Wilson sounded less than sincere, but Claudia came in anyway.

She wasn't invited to sit, but she sat anyway.

"So, Greg is going home. I was wondering what the plan would be."

"Well, he'll go to his apartment and I'll stay with him at night while the nurse stays with him during the day."

"I'm going to stay with Greg some as well."

Wilson seemed flustered.

"Um, yeah?"

"Yes."

She felt weird – it was almost like she needed to mark her territory, but it wasn't like Wilson was a woman…it was just odd.

"I have patients coming so we'll need to discuss this later."

"When will he be going home?"

"Dr. Mathis and I haven't reached a date yet."

"Okay. I'll see you later, Dr. Wilson."

Once Claudia was gone, Wilson sighed.

He knew that Claudia was good for House, but he was used to being House's best friend and emotional support. Learning to share was hard.

Sam had been his distraction. He knew he had even shoved his friendship to the side for that relationship. Now that his relationship with Sam was over, he found himself wanting more time with his friend.

He had to think of what was in House's best interest. Claudia was in House's best interest.

They would need to work together to be the best support possible for House.

Wilson needed to learn to get along with Claudia - maybe even be friends with her.

HOUSE M.D.

Claudia left to head back to Greg. She stopped off at the vending machine to grab a drink so that she wouldn't be lying to Greg about buying a drink. She didn't know if he would feel like drinking it, but she got a soda for Greg anyway.

"Hey. Want a drink?"

Greg hesitated, but realized his stomach didn't feel too bad right now.

"Maybe a few sips."

She handed over the drink and he opened it. Claudia handed him a straw and he dropped it in the drink and took a small sip.

One thing he liked about Claudia was her willingness to let him do things himself.

Wilson was the best friend one could ask for, but he would have opened the drink and stuck a straw in it before giving it to him.

"Thanks."

"Sure. I want to stay with you some when you get out - spend some time with you."

"Okay."

House hesitated.

"I don't want you to become my caregiver, though. I'm hiring an aide. There's also Wilson - I would hate to deprive him of his need to be needed."

Claudia smiled – she could definitely sense that vibe from Wilson.

"I just want to spend time with you."

"Come here and sit."

Claudia perched on the bed next to him and he awkwardly reached for her and pulled her in.

"They may have to put off my next chemo. My lips will probably heal enough that I can kiss you without too much risk of infection."

"Sounds nice."

About an hour later Claudia left to check on Casey.

HOUSE M.D.

A tech came in to draw blood. Due to his central line it was a quick and easy process to collect blood.

It didn't take long for Dr. Mathis to show up.

"Your blood counts aren't good enough for us to run another dose of chemo at the one week point. You also need more weight on you."

Dr. Mathis noticed that he currently had a blanket pulled over his body and even his arms tucked under the blanket. He was also wearing a beanie hat today.

"You cold?"

He didn't currently have a fever.

"Yes."

"You've lost a lot weight, which might make you feel chilled."

"Duh."

House knew he should be disappointed that his treatment was slowed down, but he wasn't too disappointed to find a session of misery put off.

He wanted to kiss Claudia so badly and he knew his mouth might heal enough within a week delay. If he continued the cold therapy, it probably wouldn't get as bad again.

"Okay...so, now what?"

"You'll have another intensive session to work on transfers so that the therapists can assess how close you are to being able to go home."

House fully understood the process of executing transfers; he just had trouble because of exhaustion, weakness, and pain. A day of practice was not going to fix that problem.

Did that mean Mathis was going to keep him until he was totally strong? If so, he'd be here forever.

"We'll have the therapists train people who might be spending time with you because you will always need someone with you to help you transfer. Is that understood?"

"Yep."

"I know Wilson wants training. Do you anticipate Claudia spending much time with you?"

"Yes, but I don't want her to be a care-giver."

"There might be some point at which you might need help when she's with you. I'm not suggesting she become your care-giver, but as your physician I would recommend your girlfriend receive training."

House paused to contemplate the matter.

"Yeah, you're right."

As much as he resisted the idea, he was a rational person.

"I would like you to be able to spend some time at home before your next chemo session. If we go on an every other week schedule, your treatment would be in about 9 days. This afternoon Wilson will come to assist in your transfers."

"You think I might be able to go home soon?"

House knew he sounded pathetically hopeful, which was not in his nature, but he didn't care at this point.

"I'm going to have to consult with the therapists on that. Wilson said he has already dealt with home accommodations and I'll put in a request for a home health aide. I don't think you need a registered nurse since you're a doctor and you'll have Dr. Wilson monitoring you. You'll just need someone to help you and make sure you are following the rules."

"Of course." House was sarcastic, but he knew he would need help.

"We do still need to arrange for equipment that you will need at home. I'll have someone come by to plan that. I'm going to be pretty strict with conditions for you being at home. You will wear the heart monitor 24/7. I'll be sending a small battery run monitor home with you. I let you disconnect to move around in the hospital because immediate equipment and assistance is available, but at home we need to stay one step ahead in case you have an emergency. I'm also prescribing a hospital bed for you to use at home."

"Wait! As long as I have some pillows to help keep me up, I'll be fine in my own bed."

"With the hospital bed you won't require as much help to shift, which will be better for you."

"That's ridiculous! I'm only in a single hip spica now; I don't need all that crud!"

"You're using that hospital bed and it's final. I'm also sending home an IV system so that you can hook up if you need extra fluids. With your central line, it will be very easy for you to connect and disconnect as needed. I don't anticipate it becoming necessary, but I'm prescribing oxygen as well."

Mathis turned and left the room.

House could admit that the heart monitor was a good idea, but a hospital bed? Seriously?

His home was going to look like a freakin' nursing home. Hospital bed, walker, wheelchair, cardiac monitor, oxygen, IV...YUCK!

On the upside, he would also have time away from the constant flow of strangers in and out of the room and could spend more time with Claudia.

Hopefully he could lessen some of this tension between him and Wilson. As much as he liked Claudia, he didn't want to lose Wilson's friendship.

He was uncomfortable and put his hands down on the bed to shift. After a few grunts he wasn't able to shift far. Damn!

House wouldn't have to worry about being uncomfortable for long because in traipsed Wilson and the therapist.

"I know Mathis told you, but I'll be trained to help transfer you today."

"Great."

House sounded less than thrilled. Your best friend helping you get onto the toilet was less than ideal.

The transfer went quite slow as the therapist guided Wilson on where to put his hands and such and then spotted House as he was shifted into the chair. It was even more difficult to get on the toilet, but he managed it with just Wilson's help and guidance from the therapist. The person assisting him really didn't need to take much weight, but he had to have help balancing and was totally unable to lift his own right leg or get situated by himself due the highly restrictive brace and pain.

"How you doing, House?"

"I'm okay."

House propelled the wheelchair by himself despite his exhaustion.

Wilson followed the therapist's instructions as House transferred back into bed suppressing a groan as Wilson shifted pillows in an attempt to get him comfortable.

"You comfortable?"

"Yeah."

Wilson could tell House was in a good deal of pain and trying to hide it.

"Okay, I'm going to go deal with some patients. I'll be by again before I leave."

Wilson gave House's shoulder a firm squeeze before leaving House alone with the therapist.

"You're doing very well with the transfers. Your home care equipment is already ordered and reserved. I'll schedule delivery with Dr. Wilson. Can your girlfriend come in tomorrow morning for transfer training?"

"Probably."

"Good. We might be able to send you home as soon as the day after tomorrow. I understand that Dr. Wilson will be staying with you. He should keep in mind that due to the rapid weight loss and your body not being adjusted to it due to all the physical stress you've been under, you're going to have trouble keeping warm and may be uncomfortable. Make sure that your heater is in good shape and you have extra blankets."

House hadn't really thought about it, but he had been cold lately. He had been requesting blankets from the warmer and always wearing a hat. He was sometimes hot right after chemo, but now he was cold. It made sense because it was snowing outside and there was ice and crud everywhere, but he wasn't outside. This was just another obnoxious problem cause by his illness.

House merely nodded as the therapist left. Unlike his usual physical therapist, this therapist was not good at reading how much pain he was in.

She didn't realize that he was currently feeling a painful pulsing sensation at the site of his femoral shaft fracture. It was enough to make him gasp and struggle to keep his breathing even.

The chain of effects from just one site of pain was ridiculous. The pain in the bone and his unconscious tensing of muscle caused his quadriceps to spasm making the fracture at the head of his femur hurt, thus causing unimaginable pain to surge up into his hip and down into his lower leg. Of course his foot had to join the party as well. His toes were aching and he desperately wanted to wiggle them and flex his foot and ankle. Of course, that would be a horrible idea with the number of fractures there. The bones were held into precise position with plaster, padding, and spacers anyway. He felt all crampy.

Now that he was alone, he couldn't help but think about these things.

He thought about calling the nurse and asking for an injection, but he didn't want to do anything suggesting he needed to remain in the hospital. If his pain wasn't under control, he wouldn't be able to leave the hospital.

He was sure Mathis left notes and the nurses would give him something for the pain if he asked, but he didn't want to do anything that might put his chance to go home at risk.

With a deep breath, he settled in to ride out the pain.

(I need opinions: does House need another challenging case to come along? Should I break it down/write it out to get some exchange with his team and some different characters incorporated? All thoughts are appreciated.)

Thanks for reading…reviews are awesome!


	68. Preparations

"I scheduled for equipment to be delivered tomorrow."

Wilson and his perky voice drifted in from the hall.

"Please tell me a hospital bed wasn't available and you'll just have to let me sleep in my own bed."

"I actually requested and was able to get you one of the wide models. I used the angle of your leg to justify it. I thought it might be nice for OTHER THINGS."

House could hear the slight smirk in Wilson's voice. House immediately saw a mental image of himself with Claudia.

Was this an olive branch from Wilson? Did he symbolically get Wilson's blessings?

"Based on the measurements, I figure it would probably be easiest to shift your couch and set the bed up in your living room. You'll be farther from the bathroom that way, but you won't be isolated in a back room and you'll be able to see your TV and stuff. The modifications are already made in your bathroom and I've got the portable ramp to help you get up the curb steps into your building."

"It sounds like you've got it all worked out, Mr. Planner. Ever considered being a personal assistant? I hear Cuddy has trouble keeping her assistants."

"Cute. We can get you on speaker phone with your team. You are tentatively scheduled to go home the day after tomorrow. The nurse I have hired is qualified and trained in respiratory therapy evaluations and basic physical therapy. She has a lot of experience with care of orthopedic injuries. A specialized physical therapist, like you have been seeing here, will come to see you on some days for more intensive stuff. With your condition and mobility level, it would be too difficult for you to travel to the hospital each day and that alone would rob too much of your energy."

Considering transfers were utterly exhausting for him, trips back and forth from the hospital each day were out of the question.

"Originally, Mathis didn't think you needed and RN. I interviewed this woman anyway. Mathis and I discussed it and decided this woman is an ideal match because she is qualified to perform these basic therapies as well as assist with all aspects of personal care. She will also be cooking for you and ensuring that you receive proper nutrition as much as your body will allow. She is very experienced."

"AKA: old."

"She is an excellent match."

"Must be ugly, too."

Wilson just sighed. Sometimes House was just a pain.

"It's late. I'll head home."

Wilson left House to sleep.

House reached for his cell phone and called Claudia.

"Hey, Greg." Claudia answered quickly.

"Hey. I may get to go home the day after tomorrow."

"Great."

House had absolutely no idea how to phrase this without sounding pathetic. "My doctor and therapist want to train anyone who spends time around me so they'll know how to help me transfer with my wheelchair."

"What time do they want me to come?"

It seemed Claudia could always tell what he was trying to say without him having to actually say it.

"About 10:00."

"Sure. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well, Greg."

"You, too."

Just talking to Claudia made him feel good. He never would have imagined he would be thinking these sappy thoughts, but he was.

It was a pleasant thought that he only had two more nights in the hospital and then he'd have some time at home. Of course, he'd have to come back to the hospital and become an inpatient for his chemo, but any time at home would be awesome.

The pain in his leg had calmed down some and House actually got a decent night's sleep.


	69. Comfortable Together

Three days after starting chemo, Casey felt fatigued and kind of uneasy. The acute symptoms of chemotherapy had passed and he was fine to be by himself.

In fact, he was sick of Claudia's hovering.

He was thrilled when he learned Greg was getting out of the hospital. For one, he knew this would be good for Greg. Hospitals were depressing places when you have extended stays. Unfortunately, he knew from experience how depressed one could become in a hospital.

Second, it was good for him. Greg going home would provide a distraction for Claudia. Maybe Claudia would finally leave Casey alone and spend more time with Greg.

HOUSE MD FANFICTION

Claudia got to the hospital at about 9:30 and spent some time chatting with Greg until his therapist arrived.

She had to admit that she was slightly nervous to do this. She wasn't afraid of helping Greg. She was more afraid of making Greg uncomfortable and causing him to push her away.

The therapist talked her through how to help him while letting the walker, arm of his wheelchair, and Greg's left leg take most of the weight. Since Claudia was smaller than Greg, it was very important that she be able to help him without hurting herself.

They went through everything from positioning the wheelchair next to his bed, how to lock the brakes, where to put her hands, what Greg would be doing, etc.

She could tell that Greg was getting annoyed since he no doubt already knew all this stuff, but he did manage to keep his mouth shut.

Claudia truly didn't know these things. Although Casey had been severely ill, he had never been wheelchair bound or needed this much physical assistance.

She helped him transfer into his wheelchair and then Greg directed her through positioning the pillows to keep him stable. She was pleasantly surprised with how easy it was to help him transfer.

When she looked at Greg and saw how exhausted he looked, she realized that it must not be as easy for him. She knew he was still very weak from chemo, weight loss, and other side effects.

"I'm good."

Greg slowly propelled himself to the bathroom and parked his chair alongside the toilet.

"I can't balance myself on the toilet very well, so it's very important that you hold onto me so that I don't fall. I can use the bars to hold myself up most of the time, but just don't let go."

Greg looked profoundly nervous and edgy. Did he not trust her to help him? He was making her nervous.

"I won't let go of you."

"Okay."

Greg slid his left foot off the rest and got positioned.

The therapist walked her through how to help him onto the toilet. Once he was on the toilet and had a firm grip on the bars, she had to move his leg. She shifted his cumbersome (and heavy!) right leg until it rested on the wheelchair seat and he could be properly positioned on the toilet.

The combination of the brace and plaster cast made his leg awkward, thick, and heavy.

Despite Greg's nerves, she found this transfer to be fairly easy as well.

"Dr. House, you're doing wonderful! You get better at this every time. I'm not going to have any problem approving you to go home tomorrow. Let's get you back in that wheelchair!"

The therapist was positively gushing and Greg looked like he was about to strangle him.

"Let me breathe a minute."

"That's fine. You may want to rest between each transfer, Dr. House. You will probably find the transfers physically taxing."

"No kidding."

The therapist scowled at Greg's sarcasm.

Claudia had noticed that this was not his regular physical therapist. Apparently, this person worked with Greg on transfers and daily living stuff.

She held Greg's shoulders and gently rubbed them as the therapist awkwardly stared.

Greg wasn't panting as much now and was getting poised to transfer again.

"Ready, Claudia?"

Greg was back in the wheelchair before the therapist had time to talk them through the procedure.

As she eased his leg onto the rest and slid the pillow under it, she was instructed to fasten the strap around Greg's cast even though they weren't going very far.

She couldn't miss the tightness around his eyes that she knew indicated pain for him.

Once Greg was back in the hospital bed, Claudia helped him get situated with the pillows. Greg grunted and flinched several times even though he was moving slowly and she was being gentle.

"Dr. House, is this hurting you too much? If we need to delay your release from inpatient status-"

"No, the damn leg hurts no matter what I do. Go away."

Greg didn't shout - his voice was positively icy. Shouting would probably be better.

Claudia was shocked and quickly stepped back. This was just what she was afraid of!

She felt Greg jerk her hand back, "Not you."

"You can't keep me here just because it hurts - you'd be keeping me forever."

The therapist looked like he was about to wet his pants. Even from an immobile position in a hospital bed, Dr. Gregory House could inspire fear in anyone.

She could tell this was Greg's intended result. This therapist could probably be declared a pushover.

"Okay, then. This afternoon, I'm going to observe your girlfriend helping you transfer. I won't give any instructions next time. Even though you will have an aide during the day, I want you to have a couple people that are competent in transferring you. I'll, uh, leave now."

He abruptly fled the area.

She actually felt a little bad for the therapist.

Claudia thought she might make him angry, but she decided to ask her question anyway. "Is there anything we can do to make the transfers not hurt you as much?"

"No. Broken bones just hurt. It doesn't matter what we do. My damn right leg always hurts - even if the rest of me heals, it will always hurt."

Greg sounded defeated.

"What do you mean, if? If you heal? Don't think like that - 'if' is not an option. You are healing whether you like it or not."

Greg raised his eyes to her and she could immediately tell he was amused.

"I'm serious! I've already decided that you are going to heal."

"I know. That's why it's funny."

Even if Greg wasn't openly laughing, his exquisite blue eyes always told her what he was really thinking. His eyes were laughing.

Claudia sat on the edge of his bed facing him without waiting for invitation. She placed a hand on each of his knees - both the braced knee and the bare one.

She was getting increasingly comfortable around him and he seemed to feel the same way.


	70. Cleared

(NOTE: Hello, dear readers. I apologize for the delay. Real life got in the way, but I think life may be calming down a bit! Please enjoy this next chapter – thanks for reading!)

His last day in the hospital flew by. Claudia helped him through another transfer and received the therapist's stamp of approval.

His regular physical therapist had another session with him and approved him for discharge as did his respiratory therapist.

Mathis ran another set of x-rays just for good measure.

The brace tech, Pete, also came by to inspect his brace and cast for any problems.

"How are you doing?"

Pete hadn't been by since House's last course of chemo when he got so bloated that the abdomen plate from his brace had to be removed.

House was mad that Pete had seen him when he was so sick and miserable. He barely remembered Pete being there.

"I'm doing wonderful – that's why I'm still trapped in this brace."

"Any more abdominal swelling?"

"Nope. That was just a delightful short term chemo side effect."

"Glad you haven't lost your sense of sarcasm. You must be doing somewhat better since it seems they are letting you go home tomorrow."

House didn't respond at all.

"May I pull the sheet back?"

"It seems you are going to have to in order to see my brace."

House was hurting and feeling hostile today.

Pete interpreted this as a 'yes.'

He pulled the sheet back.

"You're wearing shorts now. Dr. House, this is excellent that you've found you can wear clothes over the brace!"

"It's not like I just found this out. It's just that my bowels are no longer explosive and I no longer need a nurse to hold a bedpan for me. All I need now is a nurse to hold me onto the toilet."

"Oh. Is your brace working out okay with the wheelchair use?"

"I guess."

"Well, I'll just start at your foot."

"Cast feel too tight? Any problems?"

"Nope."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Yep."

"How so?"

"Itchy. The still position makes my muscles cramp."

"Well, I looked at the X-Rays. The bones aren't stable enough yet to change your cast. We would be risking some of the small bones shifting."

"I realize that. That's why I said there were no problems. I know we can't do anything about that. The chemo is killing growing cells…thus any new bone cell formation is destroyed."

"Well, Mathis's report does state that metastasis growth has been halted."

"I understand that. I'm a doctor. Benefits outweigh the downside. Once I survive this cancer, we can worry about the bones. Inspect the damn cast and brace so I can get tomorrow's discharge show on the road."

"Okay. I'm going to lift your leg a bit at the ankle so that I can inspect the underside."

At House's nod, Pete lifted his foot. House suppressed a grunt. It was ridiculous that even slight movement caused pain.

"No dents or weaknesses in the plaster…I'm setting the foot down. I don't see any skin deterioration at the tips of your toes. I can see so little flesh, though, that it's a bit hard to say."

After checking the edges, Pete moved on from the cast to the brace.

"Need to remove the shorts."

"I can't bend over enough to remove them myself."

"Would you like me to get a nurse, or help you remove them?"

"Let's just get them off."

Pete helped House get the shorts off and then finished up examining the brace.

"Once your femur is stable enough, it would definitely be a good idea to change the padding. I'm sure you are getting very uncomfortable and the weight loss has probably added to that. For now, just hang in there with the itchiness and stay hydrated. I know Dr. Mathis is making sure of that. Good luck with going home. Any questions?"

"Nope."

"Don't hesitate to contact me if there are any problems with the brace."

Pete approved House to go home and was on his way. He made plenty of notations to ensure that House's aide turned him regularly and took appropriate care. He knew others would notate the same things, but he wanted to cover all the bases.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

He didn't have a patient right now, but he made Chase come anyway to bring him decent food.

Mathis herself came by to see him again and was pleased with the reports from his care team.

His last visitor of the day was Wilson.

"I've been at your apartment and I've got it all set up. Your bed is assembled and all the equipment is there with the exception of the heart monitor. You'll be wearing it home from the hospital. You've got an assortment of pillows just like what you have here plus some extras. Got to keep you elevated." Wilson sounded very pleased with himself.

It was almost bittersweet. He was glad he would be leaving the hospital, but wasn't happy about all the medical 'stuff' that had invaded his home.

When House didn't respond, Wilson prompted him, "House, you hurting?"

House was torn between honesty and turning to rudeness just to get Wilson out of his hair.

After a deep sigh, "Yeah."

"Do you need something extra?"

"No."

Wilson looked like he had doubts, but he eventually seemed to let it go.

"Okay."

"What time is the prison break?"

"If all goes according to schedule, you'll be discharged at about 10:00. The hospital van is scheduled to take you home at 10:15."

"Excuse me? The van?"

"What? You think I'm going to strap you to the roof of my Volvo?"

Once he thought about it, it was a funny mental image.

"If you haven't noticed the position of your leg and the fact that you can't bend at the waist or sit up all the way...you won't even fit in my car..."

Wilson shut up before he totally spelled it out for House.

"I get the picture."

"Mathis started to schedule an ambulance to take you home. I talked her down to a hospital van."

"Thrilling." House's sarcasm was heavy this evening.

"I'm checking in on a few patients in the morning and then going home with you. The aide will meet us at your apartment. Do you have any questions?"

"Did you buy some decent food?"

"I stocked up on groceries."

"Stuff other than tofu and broccoli?"

"Yes."

"See you in the morning."

"Yeah."

Wilson recognized his dismissal.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

Wilson packed up everything he would need for several days. Essentially, he would be moving in with House for the time that he was at home. He hauled his stuff over to House's apartment and unloaded.

He had already done everything he could think to do to get ready for House's homecoming. He had even had a housekeeper come in to clean the place top to bottom. After all, House hadn't used the apartment in quite some time.

When he unlocked the door, the first thing he saw was the hospital bed and new metal walker. It was rather depressing, but would probably be part of House's life for a while.

He plopped down on House's leather couch and realized there was one more thing he needed to do. He didn't exactly want to do this, but he figured it would be in House's best interest.

Wilson called Claudia.

Claudia was chatting with Casey when her cell rang. She thought it might be Greg, but it wasn't his number or the hospital's number.

"Hello."

"Hi, Claudia. It's James Wilson."

"Oh, Dr. Wilson. What's wrong?"

The first thought surging through her mind was that there was some kind of error in Casey's blood work. Was the cancer back?

The next thought in her mind was if something was wrong with Greg.

"There's nothing wrong. You can call me James or Wilson."

That was different. Wilson had never encouraged her to call him anything.

"Okay, Wilson."

"As you know, House is being released from the hospital tomorrow. I was wandering if you wanted to be at his apartment when he gets home."

Wilson felt so awkward, but felt like extending this information is what he needed to do.

"Oh. What time?"

Claudia couldn't believe this. Was Wilson actually 'inviting' her into his time with Greg?

"The van is scheduled to pick him up from the hospital at about 10:15, so some time after that."

"That would be great. I'd love to be there when he gets home."

"So, his extra key is above the molding. IF you want to come by in the morning and let yourself in..."

"Sure. Sounds like a plan. Thanks for letting me know."

"Goodnight."

That was interesting. She was going to call Greg for tomorrow's details, but now she didn't have to.

She vowed to arrive at his apartment early so that she'd have some time to 'explore.'


	71. Home

(NOTE: Thank you for continuing to read and review. It is appreciated. Every review is appreciated!)

Wilson gathered up some warm clothes for House to wear home.

He had bought House several oversized shirts and some particularly large flannel PJ pants with an elastic waist and drawstring that could easily be worked over his brace.

It was icy and cold outside. These were definitely less than ideal conditions for travel or wheelchair use.

It certainly wasn't ideal for someone who had undergone chemo and weight loss and had difficulty keeping warm even indoors.

He only saw a few patients before heading up to House's room.

Since he might be doing it some, Wilson decided to go ahead and help House get dressed. He intended to leave this mostly to the aide, but the aide wouldn't always be home.

Instead of a tentative offer to help or questions, Wilson went with a matter of fact approach.

"Brought you some clothes. Here."

Wilson handed House one of the large shirts so that he could put it on. He could get his head and arms through, but needed help pulling it down.

House lowered the head of the bed while Wilson supported him and helped him get the shirt down.

Wilson carefully worked the pants over House's right leg to minimize jostling him. He let House thread his left leg through. Ever since the bracing came off his left leg, House was able to help a lot more with dressing.

He cut a slit up the right ankle of the pants since the cast over House foot and toes was fairly large. They worked together to pull the pants up.

Wilson put a sock on House's left foot. House's toes were not protruding from his cast at all as the cast was sculpted around them and special spacers were inserted to keep them positioned for healing, but Wilson questioned House if he wanted the toes covered. The end of the cast was still open.

"Yeah. You better."

Wilson grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the ankle off a thick sock and put a slit in it so that it could be slid over the end of his bulky plaster cast.

Wilson helped House with a shoe on his left foot and then they waited for Dr. Mathis.

A technician came by with equipment. He was hooked up to the heart monitor and issued an extra battery and a charger.

His shirt was pulled up to attach the new pads to his chest. He still had the pads for the inpatient monitor, but they wanted him on a portable unit. One set had to be removed and the new pads had to be carefully positioned to get them right without his brace interfering. House's glares did not impede the process.

The monitor was attached to an elastic belt. Wilson helped House ease away from the bed so that it could be fastened around his waist.

House had gone through a couple transfers to use the restroom this morning and had now gone through everything to prep for the trip home. Wilson could tell he was already tired and sore when they hadn't even left the hospital

Dr. Mathis came by and saw him one more time to sign the discharge papers.

He transferred himself into the wheelchair with Wilson's assistance. Wilson and a nurse escorted House to board the hospital van that would take him home.

HOUSE M.D.

Casey was doing great, so Claudia didn't hesitate to head over to Greg's place.

She probed the molding over the door and sure enough, there was a key.

The masculine apartment in front of her was just what she would have expected from Greg.

The living room had obviously been rearranged to accommodate a large hospital bed and various medical equipment. She once again was confronted with the harsh reality of Greg's illness.

She approached the bed to find that it was made up with dark navy blue Egyptian cotton sheets and had several nice blankets sitting on a side table. This definitely had Wilson written all over it. At least he was trying to do subtle things to make the bed at least feel a bit different from standard hospital issue.

A stack of medical quality memory foam pillows stood by at ready for Greg's arrival.

The most notable part of the living room was the beautiful baby grand piano. There were also several guitars hanging behind it. Claudia suspected Greg was talented, but she wouldn't be able to hear him play for quite a while.

The quantity of books was staggering. Several languages were present and the variety was amazing.

Antique medical instruments made up the knick-knacks she could see. Even though there weren't any family photos or crafty things in his apartment, it still felt 'homey.'

She peered in the bathroom to find that it had definitely been modified to allow for Greg's needs.

She also found a small guest room and another bathroom. Finally, the master bedroom was at the back of his apartment.

There was a large bed and several other pieces of furniture. She supposed Greg wouldn't be able to use his own bed for a while.

The kitchen cabinets and the fridge were neatly stocked with healthy food. Wilson was no doubt responsible for this.

Knocking sounded through the apartment and she headed back to the door.

Wilson had told her to listen for the home aide to arrive. She peered through the door to find a stout middle aged woman with puffy hair. She was wearing dark scrubs and a thick coat.

She opened the door. The woman showed Claudia her ID badge and introduced herself as "Marge."

Claudia introduced herself as "Claudia, Dr. House's girlfriend." It felt great to say that.

"I've been briefed on Dr. House's medical history and viewed all of his radiology work. I saw that you were documented with his approval for disclosure of medical information. Is that correct?"

She honestly had no idea, but went ahead and agreed.

"I'm going to go ahead and inspect all of his equipment."

Marge seemed efficient as she inspected everything.

"They indicated that he should have a heart monitor and I don't see one. Based on his records, he definitely needs one."

"I'm not sure of the exact details. Why would you say he definitely needs one?"

She could tell that Marge hesitated.

"You do have HIPPA clearance. He has had three heart attacks in the past and has experienced several fluctuations since he fell."

"Certainly." This was news to Claudia. There was something wrong with Greg's heart? She pretended to know this history...what kind of girlfriend isn't aware that her boyfriend had experienced three heart attacks!

Somebody whose boyfriend is as secretive as Greg.

This made her wonder what else was out there that she wasn't aware of.

They were both saved from their contemplations by Wilson unlocking the door.

"Marge, we're outside with the van ready to get him unloaded. He's in quite a bit of pain from the trip and we're going for a passive transfer. We don't want him assisting."

House had grunted or gasped at every bump on the ride home and Wilson was just ready to get him settled. House normally suppressed all expressions of pain, so he knew it must be bad.

"Of course."

"Hi, Claudia. You want to handle the door?"

"Sure." She wouldn't admit that she was nervous to see him. She didn't know what it was - perhaps the fact that they were no longer in the artificial hospital environment.

The van was parked in the street outside Greg's apartment. Wilson was already in the process of setting out the portable wheelchair ramp.

The sirens obviously weren't on, but the red and blue lights were flashing to alert other drivers. There wasn't an adequate parking space to pull into, so the van was protruding into the street.

The woman in apartment 221A was currently standing in her doorway watching. Claudia figured she saw the lights from inside and now saw the doors being propped open.

"Ma'm, this isn't a show." Claudia scowled at her. She quickly got the message and went back into her apartment. Claudia would put money on it that she was still watching out the peep-hole, but at least Greg wouldn't see her.

Wilson was already easing Greg up the ramp into the foyer. He was surrounded by more pillows than usual.

She could tell by the set of his face that he was in a good deal of pain.

When his eyes caught hers, she saw a brief twinkle as he shot her a half smile before wincing at the bump into his apartment doorway.

"I'm Marge. I'll be your home health aide."

House gave Marge a brief glance, but didn't seem interested.

"How you doing?" Wilson quietly asked House the question she was also wondering.

House was too tired to hold any stoic pretense.

"Need to lie down."

"Dr. House, I know that you are able to transfer with assistance from one person, but I insist you allow us to transfer you passively. Let us do the work. You're sore and your heart rate is up."

It seemed Marge had spotted Greg's monitor right away and was already looking at it.

"Okay."

Greg didn't even protest or put up a fight. He must really feel like crud.

House was suddenly very glad there was an adjustable hospital bed in the room. Damn Mathis – that woman was always right.

The attendant from the hospital van had come in to help transfer Greg.

Wilson parked Greg's chair alongside the hospital bed and locked the breaks. The head of the bed was already angled and had pillows arranged in an estimate of what Greg would need, but there would still be adjustments needed.

House was smoothly lifted onto the bed and Claudia stepped in to help arrange his pillows as Marge held up his leg until a nest of pillows was ready to support it.

As Marge settled his leg, House whimpered.

Claudia stood out of the way at his head and held his hand as they finished getting him situated. They set his heart monitor to the side and checked if he was comfortable.

"Yeah. I'm making it."

Not exactly an optimistic description, but at least Greg responded.

Wilson nodded at the hospital attendant and he left.

Greg sat breathing for a few minutes as Marge watched his heart monitor.

"Heart rate is returning to normal."

Wilson reached for Greg's pulse as if he didn't trust the monitor.

"I'm fine." Greg shot Wilson a nasty look and swatted his hand away.

"Yes, you are the epitome of good health."

Greg's things had been dropped off inside the door and Wilson went to put them away.

Claudia continued to hold Greg's hand as he took deep breaths with his eyes closed.

He finally opened his eyes and met her eyes.

"It's good to see you."

Greg looked strained, but sincerely pleased to see her.

"Wilson said he called you, but he didn't really say if you'd be here."

"Of course I'm here."

Claudia gave him a peck on the forehead and stroked his forearm in easy silence.

Marge and Wilson were quietly discussing something in the other room.

Was Wilson trying to give them some time alone?

Greg suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"Claudia, get Wilson."

This was said around a stifled gasp.

She hurried to the other room.

"Wilson, he needs you."

As Claudia entered the room, they heard Greg's heart monitor sound indicating a rise in his heart rate.

Both Wilson and Marge charged towards Greg's bed without hesitation.

"What is it?"

House was pale.

"The pain...I need something."

"House, where is the pain?"

"Femur...thigh"

Claudia grabbed Greg's floundering hand.

"Marge, get his meds."

Marge rummaged through the case Wilson had brought and pulled out a vial. She briskly passed it off to Wilson.

Wilson quickly drew up some meds and injected them into Greg's central line.

"This will help with the pain, but it will also make him drowsy."

Wilson was actually directing this at her. He was keeping her informed. This was certainly interesting.

A few minutes later, Greg relaxed and drifted to sleep.

"Was his pain this out of control during his hospital stay?" Marge seemed very displeased as her glare fell on Wilson.

"No. The trip seems to have set his pain off. There is that area of construction between here and the hospital and it was fairly bumpy. I don't think he did too well with that."

Marge still looked doubtful.

"Well, hopefully the pain will be more under control when he wakes."

Greg shivered a bit.

Marge reached for Greg and turned to Wilson.

"Dr. Wilson, please turn up the thermostat.

Marge started pulling the sheet up over Greg, so Claudia grabbed the pile of blankets.

She helped Marge tuck the blanket around his left leg and up his torso. Marge neatly placed his arms under the blanket.

The only thing protruding was Greg's right leg, head, and the leads to the heart monitor.


	72. Movement

(NOTE: This is another bridge chapter. Lots of details, but my muse was playing for the moment. I promise there will be more change of plot soon!)

Since Greg was asleep, Wilson went back into work for a while. Marge was scheduled to work until 6 pm.

Marge was studying a copy of Greg's file off her laptop while Claudia got some work done on her own laptop.

The room had been quiet for a couple of hours when Greg's voice caught her attention.

"Am I trapped in an internet terminal?"

"Yep, you forget your laptop?"

Claudia shot him a smirk as Marge immediately rattled off a question.

"How is the pain?"

"Better than it was."

"Notice that I didn't ask you if it was 'better than it was.' Are you okay? Do you need more pain medication?"

Greg sighed and shot an irritated look at Marge.

"No, I don't need any more meds. Of course I'm okay. That's why medical equipment has invaded my home and a beast of a nurse is currently questioning me!"

Claudia had to admit that Marge really could be described as a beast. She had broad shoulders and beefy, muscular arms. At the same time, she had this almost grandmotherly quality to her. It was a very odd contradiction. She was a cross between a sweet middle-age lady and the Incredible Hulk.

"If you don't need more meds, then, okay."

Claudia sat on the bed to his left and cuddled in close to him. Now that he didn't have bracing on his left leg, she was able to get a lot closer to him.

Greg was covered, so she sat on top of the covers next to him. He had pulled his arms out from under the covers and now had them wrapped around her.

"Dr. House, do you prefer water cold or room temperature?"

"Neither. Not thirsty."

"Well, you're either thirsty or about to have fluids connected to your central line."

House sighed, but knew she was right. He just wanted to ignore his health for a while and cuddle with Claudia.

"Greg, which is it?" Claudia was now asking him.

"Huh?"

"The water. Cold or room temperature?"

"Grrr...room temperature with a straw!"

Greg's response was barely a growl, so Claudia passed this along to Marge.

Marge handed a cup of water and a straw to House. He turned to Claudia and made a big show of taking a sip of water.

"Happy?"

"Yep."

Claudia gave him a large kiss on the forehead

He ran his hand through her hair before taking another sip of water and setting the cup of water on the table Wilson had pulled up alongside the hospital bed.

"I need to pee. Will you grab Marge for me?"

Claudia carefully got off the bed so that she wouldn't jostle Greg and headed for the kitchen. Marge was at the stove making something.

"Greg needs to use the restroom."

"Be right there."

Marge turned the burner down, washed her hands and headed for the living room.

"Are you okay to transfer?"

"Yes."

Marge was highly familiar with all transfer methods and had already read his chart on exactly how they were transferring Greg.

When they first got home, he was in so much pain that they had just lifted him onto the bed without his help.

Apparently Greg was okay to transfer himself now.

Marge was quick to get the walker set up for Greg and checked that the brakes on his wheelchair were locked.

Marge took the heart monitor off the table and positioned it on Greg.

The transfer itself went quickly and efficiently and Greg was soon positioned in the wheelchair.

Marge knew that Greg had clearance to propel himself short distances, so she stepped back to give him a chance to propel himself.

It was slow going, but he managed to propel himself back to the bathroom. The space shortage in the bathroom meant that Greg was going to have to back himself in. Ordinarily there would have been room for him to turn a wheelchair around in his bathroom, but his leg was in the way.

"Go in the bathroom first and pull me in."

House was resigned as he basically surrendered to Marge. She pulled him up alongside the toilet and then squeezed past him to get to his other side and assist him onto the toilet.

A stout middle age woman was now standing by helping him balance as he peed. Great.

He suddenly found that he had a shy bladder. He had been okay peeing in front of others at the hospital, but this was somehow different.

He was in his own home. You're supposed to be able to pee alone and in peace.

"Is there a problem, Dr. House?"

No response

"Shy bladder?"

"Apparently, but I didn't have this problem in the hospital."

"It is very common for patients to experience change or discomfort in their toileting habits after returning to their own homes. Do you still feel like you need to urinate?"

"Painfully so." House felt like he was about to explode, but he couldn't force his body to release the urine.

"Let's try turning the sink on. Hold the bars and I'm going to let go of you so that I can turn your sink on. Is that okay?"

He was already holding the bars, but he tightened his grip. He had this horrible fear of falling on the leg. Being in this position was causing his entire right leg, hip, and lower back to throb because the leg wasn't really elevated and was angled very uncomfortably. It felt like the all the blood was rushing into his

"You can let go."

Marge stepped away and turned on the water.

For whatever reason that finally prompted his bladder to bust and he was finally able to relieve himself.

"I'm finished."

"Let's get you back in the chair."

He was in a lot of pain now and just wanted to lie down and get his leg elevated.

Marge positioned him sideways at the sink so that he could wash his hands and then she passed him a towel.

Once she navigated his leg out of the tight bathroom space, Marge stepped back to give House a chance to propel himself.

He got all of two pushes in before he just couldn't stand it and reluctantly prompted Marge to push him.

Without comment or reaction, Marge pushed him back to the living room and positioned his chair alongside the bed and helped him get positioned at the walker so that he could transfer.

Marge cradled his leg and helped him transfer. He was surprised at the low moan emitted from his throat that he was powerless to stop.

As he got situated on the bed, he felt like a grenade had just exploded inside he right hip and that the fractures were screaming and engulfing his body in flames. He tried to shift his weight, but the slight shift of his leg caused a spasm to surge through his remaining thigh muscles and into his knee.

"Dr, House, be still. Let me take the weight - stop trying to fight me." Marge's soothing voice broke through his gasp of pain.

He then realized that he was subconsciously trying to lift his leg. The pain surging through him had somehow made him unaware that he was straining his damaged muscles against a brace that wouldn't budge.

"Release all the muscle tension."

House attempted to relax. Unfortunately, this change sent another muscle spasm down this thigh.

"I need a muscle relaxer. Now!"

The irritating aftershocks were now going through his leg.

"Do you want it injected into your thigh or something systemic?"

"Systemic. Cramp in my lower leg, too." This was uttered between panting and gritted teeth.

"Claudia, dear. Come here."

Claudia was watching this scene in horror, but immediately went to Greg's side at Marge's request.

The pillows weren't all positioned yet, so Marge entrusted Greg's leg into Claudia's grip as she drew up meds for Greg.

Marge efficiently lifted his shirt and injected the muscle relaxer Wilson had prescribed straight into Greg's central line.

Fortunately Wilson had left her with instructions and medications for any scenario.

He was like goo as the powerful muscle relaxant took effect.

Claudia could tell that the muscle relaxer helped Greg some with the tension and spasms, but he was still in some pain.

"Marge, I need to lean back some more. Will you get me a couple more pillows?"

At first, Claudia felt a little bad that he had asked Marge instead of her, but she also knew that's what Marge was here for.

Marge set a couple pillows on the side of the bed and asked Claudia to support Greg's leg with her hands as he reclined the bed.

Once he stopped reclining, Marge tucked a pillow under Greg's knee and his ankle.

Greg breathed for a few minutes before meeting Marge's eyes.

"Grab a couple more pillows."

Marge looked at Greg inquiringly and waited for a response.

"Thigh."

After the pillow was positioned, Marge spoke to him again.

"That help?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you want the other?"

Greg still had his arm wrapped around his braced hip as if that could somehow help with the pain.

"I feel like I'm crooked and my hip hurts. Let's get it under my right hip and lower back."

"Okay, let's see...can you use your arms to shift your weight so that I can slide the pillow under?"

Greg reached around and tried to shift himself, but the muscle relaxers made his body feel like mush. He dropped his arms at his side and exhaled.

Not only physically, but he seemed to mentally droop as well.

"I can't. I'm too weak."

Claudia saw Marge whisper something to Greg.

He merely nodded.

Marge implored, "Claudia, let's switch places."

"Sure."

Marge took Greg's leg back.

Claudia affectionately brushed her hand across Greg's shoulder..

"I'm going to lift his right side up slightly and support him. All you have to do is slip the pillow under his hip and lower back right here."

Marge carefully lifted the right side of Greg's body as Claudia tucked the pillow where Marge showed her.

They both stepped away and analyzed Greg's face.

"Thanks." Greg just nodded that he was okay and flopped his head back against the pillows.

Claudia could tell from her expression that Marge was concerned about him.

The muscle was lax and no longer spasming or sending painful shocks through his body.

Movement had obviously taken a lot out of him and he looked exhausted.

She could see that Greg would be falling asleep soon. She had spent enough time around him to be able to read these things.

Once his hand relaxed and released hers, she headed to the other room to talk to Marge.


	73. Ready?

(NOTE: I apologize for the delay between chapters. That pesky real life! Reviews are like food for my writing process…)

When Claudia entered the kitchen, it looked like Marge was finishing up something at the stove.

"Claudia, was he in this much pain while he was in the hospital?"

"I don't think so, but he is very good at hiding pain."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"What are you making?"

"Soup. His doctors are hoping that he'll be able to gain some weight while he's home. Many patients eat better when they're at home."

"Oh."

"When he wakes, he needs to get some food down. Dr. Wilson should be home before too long."

Claudia went back to the living room to watch Greg sleep. Sure enough, he woke up again before long.

"Greg. You're awake."

"…and you're very astute." Sometimes you could interpret that as an insult or biting remark from Greg, but he seemed to be joking now.

"Thanks...always knew I was."

She approached his bed and kissed his forehead.

"Dr. House, I made you some soup. You also need to be drinking fluids right now."

Claudia looked and sure enough the water was barely touched.

"I'm going to take your temperature."

"I'll be right back." Claudia left the room to give Greg some space with the nurse.

"No fever."

House reached for the water. He picked it up, but his forearm started trembling before he could get it to his mouth. Marge noticed and gently took the water from his hand and held the straw to his mouth without saying a word.

After several sips, she set it back on the table.

House looked defeated.

"It's just the muscle relaxers."

"I know that - I'm a doctor." House snapped at Marge.

Marge had doctors as patients when she worked at a hospital, but had never been a home nurse for one. This was something new for her. She found herself in the habit of informing patients of everything, but this patient already knew these things.

"You need to get some soup down. I'll be right back."

Claudia was in the kitchen when Marge came to get the soup.

"The muscle relaxers are affecting his muscle strength and control. He's having trouble picking things up right now."

Claudia hadn't been around Greg right after a high dose of systemic muscle relaxers and didn't anticipate this. It was logical, though.

Marge ladled some soup into a mug and headed for the other room.

Marge was a nurse that was willing to cook and provide basic house upkeep as needed. Wilson had wanted to find someone for House that was willing to do that.

"Soup. High nutritional value. Do you need some spray in your mouth first?"

"Yeah."

Claudia watched from the doorway as Marge sprayed the meds in Greg's mouth and waited for him to nod that he was good.

Marge started feeding Greg the soup without hesitation or looks of pity. She could see Greg giving her brief gestures and indications as she switched between the soup and water every couple of bites.

Claudia didn't want to watch so she ducked back into the kitchen. Claudia tried to picture herself doing this for Greg. She thought she could do it, but just the thought was painful.

She poured some water for herself so that when Marge came in should would look busy and not look like someone hiding from her boyfriend's illness.

Marge came back in with a half full soup mug and dumped the rest down the garbage disposal and placed the mug in the sink.

"He get much down?"

"Decent. About half the soup and some more water. He's probably going to need IV fluids tonight, though."

Marge tidied up while Claudia drank her water.

"It's normal to feel uncomfortable and nervous when someone you care about is ill and needs help with basic things. Don't feel bad about it."

Marge knew what she was thinking? Great...or was it really that obvious?

Right about that time, the phone rang.

Saved by the bell.

"I'll get it." Claudia headed for the other room to pick up the phone.

Greg had a blank expression on his face.

"I've got it."

"Oh good. I was about to get up and get it myself." Greg sounded bitter. She supposed that was an unnecessary comment she made.

"Hello."

'Claudia, can you hand the phone to House?'

"Sure."

Claudia walked the cordless phone over to Greg. She remembered what Marge said and wondered if she should offer to hold the phone for him.

"It's Wilson."

When Greg opened his hand in a 'gimmee' gesture, she handed it over.

He held it to his ear, but then relaxed his arm against the pillow and turned his head to position it against the earpiece.

"What?"

'It's me.'

"I already know that."

'I went back to the hospital when you fell asleep...'

"Wilson, get to the point."

'Well, one of my long term patients is probably going to die tonight and I really should be there when it happens.'

"Oh."

'I spoke with Foreman and he's going to be over by 6:00.'

House thought about suggesting that he check if Claudia could stay the night, but-

'I know that Claudia is there, but I think you really need someone with medical training with you for your first night home.'

...

'Are you okay with that?'

He didn't particularly want Foreman in his home helping him, but he figured he'd have to be okay with it.

"Whatever."

'Okay, I'll be home when I can.'

House hung up and dropped the phone against the bed.

He thought about telling Marge and Claudia that Foreman would be over instead of Wilson, but it would probably be more interesting to watch their reactions.

Claudia desperately wanted to ask Greg what the phone call was about, but decided that Greg would share if he wanted her to know.

"Claudia."

"Yes?"

"Would you help me with the water?"

"Sure."

Marge had brought Greg a cup of fresh water, so Claudia picked it up and held the straw to Greg's lips. She thought this would feel really awkward, but it actually felt surprisingly natural.

She grabbed a tissue from beside his bed and dabbed a drop of water off Greg's chin.

"Thanks."

Greg reached forward and grabbed her spare hand affectionately, but she could tell his grip was weaker than usual.

"No problem."

She set the water and tissue on the bedside table.

There was a knock on the door at about 5:45.

Claudia looked to Greg. His nod indicated that she should get the door.

She was quite surprised to find Dr. Foreman on the doorstep. She recognized him immediately, but couldn't imagine why he'd be here. Did he need a consult? She honestly wasn't sure Greg was up to it.

"Hello, Claudia."

Marge appeared in the doorway to the living room.

Foreman immediately introduced himself, "I'm Dr. Foreman. I'm a member of House's team and a doctor on his case."

"Marge, Dr. House's nurse."

Dr. Foreman and Marge shook hands.

Everyone except House looked rather awkward.

"House didn't tell you." With a resigned sigh, he sent House a glare.

"Tell us what?" Claudia had no idea what was going on.

"Wilson couldn't get away from a terminal patient, so he sent me to stay with House until he could get here."

Marge didn't seem phased.

"I've written everything Dr. Wilson and I have given him in the chart. His leg was cramping badly, so I gave him a systemic muscle relaxant. He is very weak at the moment due to that. He got down some soup earlier and he has been drinking water, but I still think he needs IV fluids tonight. He can't afford to get dehydrated."

Foreman nodded in understanding. "I agree. He should probably get down some more food as well."

"I love the way you're making plans for me as if I'm not in the room right now."

Foreman focused in on House. "Have you been turned today?"

"No. I've just transferred several times this morning, moved from the hospital to a van to home and shifted all over the place in between. I fell like mush and my whole leg and hip is hurting like a bitch. You're not turning me."

"It seems that is settled." At least Foreman readily dismissed the idea of turning Greg.

Claudia relaxed on the couch as Foreman approached Greg.

He checked Greg's heart monitor.

It seemed everyone was obsessed with his heart.

Marge was still standing by, presumably until Foreman finished checking Greg.

"Heart rate been okay?"

"Up a bit when I first got home and then a little later when I had some muscle cramps."

"Cramps subside?"

"Yeah - with muscle relaxers. I feel like a limp noodle."

"Pain?"

"Some."

"You need meds?"

"I can deal with it."

House reached up to scratch an itch on his chin and Foreman could immediately see the weakening effects of the muscle relaxers. His arm seemed delayed.

There was an awkward moment.

"I see all the equipment is set up for video conferencing."

Before he left the hospital, House decided that he wanted to be able to video conference with his team instead of just using the speaker phone.

Everything was positioned so he could conference from his bed in the living room. Not only could he see the team, but test results and any radiology imaging could be cued up.

Things could be sent over his laptop, but images didn't show up as well. The conferencing equipment was ideal in that regard.

The team also had a portable unit that could be taken to patient rooms so that House could examine or interrogate them.

His team or the patient could also see him, which was both good and bad.

He often communicated with facial expressions, gesture, and body language - so that was good.

What might be bad at times, though, was that they could also see how he looked.

Not only was he bound up in a ridiculous brace and confined to a hospital bed or wheelchair, he was also thin, pale, and had heart monitor leads threading out.

Foreman's cell phone rang and he talked for a moment.

House immediately knew he was talking to Cuddy.

Foreman put his hand over the receiver.

"Cuddy is talking to some other hospital. They think they've got an infectious disease case. They want to refer it to you, but Cuddy isn't giving it to the team unless you consult since you're the infectious disease specialist. You up for a differential?"

House let out a deep sigh.

"Tell Cuddy we'll take it and give the file to the team."


	74. Case Call

NOTE: Thank you to everyone who has continued to read and review. It is greatly appreciated!

As soon as Foreman finished the call, House was talking again, "Turn on all this equipment and then get the team in the conference room. Get me a legal pad to write on."

House tentatively lifted his hand as if to grasp a pen.

"Actually, for YOU to write on. Marge, look on the stand by my bed in the master room and get a legal pad and pen."

Foreman got everything turned on and headed for the bedroom to see what was taking so long.

Marge seemed to predict his actions and was waiting in the bedroom for him.

"You stress him out and he starts having breathing problems of his heart rate climbs, you better shut this down. He just got home from the hospital today and has been in terrible pain.

"All the more reason he should work on the case. The distraction will be good for him."

"Still, his health is the priority - not this patient."

Marge forcefully pushed the legal pad into his chest and met his eyes.

"If he's in worse shape tomorrow morning, I'll know why. Remember, Wilson sent you to take care of him. Don't neglect him for this patient."

Marge actually made Foreman cringe. She was quite an intimidating force. Foreman was not easily intimidated - so this said a lot about her.

Marge gathered her things, bid House goodnight and gave him her cell number. She was gone by the time Foreman had everything turned on and the team focusing into view.

Taub popped up. "Hello, House. How does it feel to be home?"

"Cut the crap. If I wanted to make small talk, I'd invite my neighbor over for tea. PATIENT!"

"Patient isn't here yet, but here's the information: 32-year old African American male. Suspected infection of the flesh on the chest. Skin feels warm to the touch and is pitted and inflamed. Patient first noticed this about a month ago and sought help 5 days ago. It has been spreading and worsening. Patient's other doctors have put him on oral, IV, and topical antibiotics with no results."

The fellows stared at House expectantly.

"When the patient arrives, check for possible allergens or any toxic exposure. Take a thorough history. I wanna know where he's been, what and who he does...everything there is to know. When does he get here?"

"In the morning." Taub answered.

"Fine. All of you go get some sleep and do that stuff in the morning. Foreman, turn the system off."

Foreman shut it off before the team even had a chance to respond.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

"Since when does House care about whether we get sleep?" Taub was puzzled.

"I'm sure he wants us alert in the morning."

Chase and Taub were gathering their belongings for the night.

"He looked like crap."

"Taub, he's sick. What would you expect?"

"I don't know. House is always so stoic and strong. He always seemed invincible. Even when he has bad leg days, he's always managed to look like he's fine."

"He is human. Goodnight, Taub."

Taub turned out the lights and left for the night. He paused outside House's dark office and stared at the empty desk chair.

It was still weird to look in there and not see House bouncing balls, pacing, or yelling through the wall.

Taub just shook his head and headed for the elevator.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

House exhaled and grimaced as soon as the conference was over. He was obviously putting on a show for the team.

Foreman was going to be here all night, so House decided he didn't care if Foreman could see how cruddy he felt.

"Need anything?" Foreman seemed hesitant.

"Water."

Foreman picked up the cup of water from the bedside table and held the straw in front of House's mouth.

When he was done, House gave Foreman a curt nod.

Based on his experience with House, he knew that this would be the only affirmation he would get.

"Marge said you haven't drunk much."

"I'm kind of nauseous. I probably need fluids tonight."

Foreman had anticipated having to fight House on this, but he actually suggested it?

House was making these decisions more like doctor than a grumpy patient.

"When did you first get nauseous?"

House immediately regretted informing Foreman of the nausea.

"Well, the first significant instance I remember was 1st grade when I threw up in this girl's hair. She was grossed out, but I thought it was funny. Of course, there was this time when I had a horrible hang-over and-"

"House. Nausea. Today."

"Oh! You meant today. In that case, breakfast. Those fake eggs just didn't taste quite right - too fluffy...or would fuzzy be a better term?"

"Did it start from the muscle relaxers?"

House's only response was an eye roll.

"Never mind. What do you think you can eat right now?"

"I don't want to eat anything."

"Not an option."

Foreman looked like a mean, black version of Mr. Clean as he stared House down.

House stared right back, but got nowhere.

"FINE! I'll try a banana. I'm sure Wilson has stocked up."

House looked away from Foreman and straight at Claudia when he asked for the banana.

She took the hint and went for the banana. Based on his muscle weakness, he would probably need help. She seriously doubted he wanted one of his employees 'feeding' him.

Claudia remembered bananas as one of the things Casey ate when he was nauseated.

She grabbed two bananas and some paper towels. She was actually a bit hungry herself.

"Found some bananas."

Foreman discretely stepped back to the couch. There was a stack of medical journals on the coffee table that were just crinkled enough to be able to tell they had already been read.

He flopped on the couch and flicked through the journals. Most of them were journals that focused on oncology. This wasn't exactly a surprise. Foreman grabbed one from the stack and opened to the table of contents. He immediately discovered that they journal was written in Spanish and of no use to him. He traded it in, making sure that he picked up one written in English.

Claudia nestled herself against Greg on the bed and peeled the first banana. She broke a bit off and flirtatiously bit into it herself before popping it into Greg's mouth as she nestled closer.


	75. Foreman Steps In

House woke up at about 5 am and was somewhat surprised to see Foreman asleep on the living room couch.

Wilson had sent Foreman over for a few hours until he could get away from the hospital. It had been about 10 hours now.

He had assumed two things: would be here by now and 2. Foreman would sleep in the guest room's bed. Well, knowing Foreman he might take over the master bedroom and sleep in House's bed.

Neither was the case. He was sound asleep on the couch with a sheet and pillows.

He had to go to the bathroom, but that could wait a minute. If he needed to pee he figured he would use the urinal, but this demanded the toilet.

He was pleased to find that his muscles no longer felt like goo. He wasn't ready to go weight lifting, but he had more control over voluntary muscle movements. He reached over and grabbed the cup of water and took a sip. He didn't have any trouble holding the cup up.

An IV line was still hooked up to his central line and the bag still contained fluids. Foreman must have changed it during the night.

He pinched his skin. He didn't feel too dehydrated.

He awkwardly pulled his shirt up enough to access the leads. This was just plain annoying. He resolved to get the nurse to help him take the damn shirt off later.

He carefully disconnected the fluids and closed off the line.

He tried to reach the first aid tape that was barely within his reach after lots of shifting.

He would also get that nurse to move things around until he could reach stuff better. He wasn't about to ask Wilson or Foreman to help him rearrange the area around his bed so he wouldn't have to expend as much energy getting stupid stuff. He didn't want to admit to his best friend or employee that stupid little tasks wore him out and it was hard on his tired, sore body to lean over.

Just getting the damn tape had involved scooting his butt over toward the bedside table.

That action jolted his leg despite his careful effort to stay still. He barely managed to do this without knocking over the pillows propping his leg up. Of course, he couldn't just stay lop-sided on the bed because that sent little jolts from the fractured head of his femur. It was funny that though his whole hip and leg hurt, he was now able to distinguish exactly which screwed up spot was causing the most pain.

That meant he had to scoot himself back over to where he was before. He overshot a bit, though, and settled his leg wrong. The pillow under his knee had shifted. He attempted to lean forward and adjust it, but he came up short as the hard edge of the brace dug into his rib cage. Since he couldn't move the pillow, he'd have to move! With a third shift he managed to get himself relatively in the same place as before.

He felt like he had just undergone a cardiovascular workout.

This was pathetic.

Now that he had the first aid tape, he taped the central line's leads out of the way. It drove him nuts to have them flopping around or rubbing against his chest.

He hated the central line at first, but now it was downright convenient. When he first got it, he felt like the line was pulling at his skin, but now he was used to it and it didn't bother him as long as he kept things taped out of the way.

He wasn't having any muscle spasms, but felt uncomfortable since he had shifted. He also had to go to the bathroom like crazy.

House briefly wondered if he could hold out until his beast of a nurse got here, but that wouldn't be until 8 or 9. Nope, he needed to wake Foreman.

"Foreman?"

Nothing.

"Foreman."

A grunt and snort.

"Foreman!"

Foreman went shooting toward him.

House wasn't sure if Foreman was about to help him or tackle him.

"Good grief. I'm not dying - at least not at the moment. I need to go to the bathroom."

Foreman looked a bit uncomfortable. He hadn't helped House in the bathroom yet. As a neurologist and diagnostician, Foreman was not accustomed to assisting immobilized patients and had never even had a patient wearing a hip spica cast or brace.

"Okay. You're going to have to tell me what to do."

Foreman was wearing nothing but his boxers.

"First, put on a shirt. The only person who gets to help me topless is my girlfriend."

He rolled his eyes and pulled a shirt over his head.

Foreman abruptly seemed to realize something.

"You strong enough to help transfer? I'm the only one here right now, but Wilson did leave a urinal."

"I'm fine and it's not the kind of need that a urinal will cover. Get over here."

House directed Foreman through positioning the wheelchair and walker and where to put his hands.

Foreman was strong, but the transfer was quite awkward.

Out of paranoia to avoid falling, House tried to do too much by himself and landed a bit hard on his right hip. It hurt like bloody murder.

He barely bit back a moan.

Foreman tried not to show his concern for House, but he couldn't cover it completely.

He busied himself with the heart monitor as House regained control of his breathing.

Foreman handed the monitor to House who really wanted to rip the leads off and ditch it.

Somehow he doubted that would go over well. After all, Mathis seemed to think the effort of moving might provoke a cardiac incident.

As a doctor, House knew there was a chance. As a patient, though, he was sick of being tethered to _medical stuff._

"Positioned okay?"

"Yeah."

Foreman started to push House, but let go when House grabbed the wheels.

House slowly propelled himself to the bathroom. The brace made it difficult - he couldn't lean into the push at all. Even without the brace to contend with, propelling the chair would still be exhausting.

Normally he had tremendous upper body strength, but the cancer and treatments seemed to have robbed him of everything.

Once he got to the bathroom he stopped in the hall with a sigh.

This was incredibly awkward. He was about to instruct his employee on helping him use the bathroom.

He gestured for Foreman to pull him into the small room backwards.

Foreman looked like a little boy about to take the stand at a spelling bee – full of nervous energy. The satisfaction that Foreman was even more uncomfortable with this than he was served as little compensation.

Once he was on the toilet, Foreman let go of him and turned his back.

House immediately felt himself listing a little. His butt didn't balance on the toilet right because of the brace and he couldn't use his abdominal muscles to balance because of his position in the brace. He grabbed the bars at his side, but he felt his butt sliding.

"No! Don't let go."

The desperation in House's voice scared the hell out of Foreman.

Foreman turned back and grabbed House around the torso.

He settled for just looking away. A few minutes later House was done.

"Help me back in my chair."

They worked together until a couple grunts later House was in the chair.

House navigated himself to the sink to wash his hands.

With his leg extended forward, turned out, and resting on its side, he barely fit through his bathroom doorway. He backed up and attempted to adjust himself to go through the door.

When he moved forward, he barely stopped himself from jamming his casted foot into the edge of the doorway. Just the thought of the pain that would cause made him cringe. He was reclined in the chair, which made it somewhat difficult to even see.

Foreman watched with trepidation as House attempted to move through the doorway and almost bumped his bad leg. He had the cast and brace to hold the bones in place, but just the vibrations in his badly broken bones would hurt.

He wanted to step forward and guide the leg out the door, but he wasn't about to do that without House's permission.

When he attempted to push House to the bathroom and House grabbed the wheels he knew House was sensitive about this.

House had always been sensitive about accepting help even when he was dealing with just his usual leg pain and the cane.

He could understand House's desire to hold onto everything he could do for himself, but he was also afraid he was about to injure himself.

Foreman had helped him back into the bathroom, but it was much easier to get the leg through the door that way.

Going out foot first involved angling the leg through the door without catching his foot on the molding.

He then had to turn into the hall while remaining close enough to the edge of the doorway that the wheels still fit through. He couldn't get carried away, though, because if he didn't turn promptly the leg would bang into the wall.

For once House almost wished he was a man of small stature and short legs.

Finally House dropped his hands in his lap and exhaled.

"Get my damn leg through the door and push me to the bed."

Without comment, Foreman pushed House's reclining wheelchair out of the bathroom using care not to bump the extended leg into the doorway.

He helped House get back in bed and adjusted pillows around House's leg. He hated seeing his boss grimace. He readjusted pillows under House's braced leg and tucked pillows d at his sides until House waved him off.

"You comfortable?"

"No, but as close as I'm going to get."

"Do you want breakfast now or do you want to wait until Marge gets here?"

"Who's Marge?"

"Your nurse."

"Oh."

Foreman wasn't sure if House had really forgotten the nurse's name or was just trying to get some sort of rise out of him.

He wasn't going to comment.

"I intend to go back to sleep. You can leave me alone and go to work now. I'll be fine until Marge gets here."

"Not happening. I'm staying until Marge gets here. Wilson would kill me if I left you alone. Besides, what if you need something?"

Foreman had a point. It's not like he would be hopping out of bed to grab something. He was fairly helpless. He immediately had a horrifying thought. What if his apartment building caught on fire?

Nope, Foreman was staying.

"Fine, but shut up."

"Okay. Give me a holler if you need something."

Foreman went in the other room to freshen up figuring that Marge would be by in a couple of hours.

He would need to get to the hospital since their new patient would be coming.

(NOTE: Reviews are much appreciated. Thank you to the couple of people who reviewed my last chapter. My reviews have declined and I'm not sure if it's something about the story that has caused people to stop reading or if they've just stopped reviewing. I would greatly appreciate your feedback. Thanks!)


	76. Phone Times

(NOTE: Hello readers! I apologize for the delay - I ended up organizing a 33 person trip for work and got a bit busy! Thanks for your awesome reviews last time – they meant a lot. Here is a fun little chapter for you…)

Foreman went in the other room to freshen up figuring that Marge would be by in a couple of hours.

House looked at the clock. It was still early, but not too incredibly early. He remembered Claudia mentioning that she usually got up early.

Maybe he could call her for a distraction.

He reached over for his cell phone and quickly selected her number.

Claudia was jogging on her treadmill when her phone went off.

She had no idea who it would be at this hour, but grabbed for the phone anyway.

'_Hello.'_

"Did I wake you?"

'_No. Greg?'_

"That would be me."

'_You okay?'_

"Yep. Just bored."

'Bored?'

"You see I'm laid up in bed right now because of some stupid injury…seems like I fell in the hall or something. I was wondering what my hot girlfriend was doing…you better not be having a threesome without me!"

At least he was playful this morning. He must be doing okay this morning to actually be making fun of his injuries.

Claudia dabbed the sweat off her forehead and flopped down into a chair.

'_No threesome, but I am kind of sweaty. Maybe a little company in your bed later would be nice…'_

House could picture her playful smirk.

"So, are you wet or just sweaty?"

'_Hmm…let me check. Yep…thinking of you I'm starting to feel the former a bit.'_

Despite his condition, Claudia had felt a strong physical attraction to Greg.

"What are you wearing?"

An old sports bra and cotton shorts was less than exciting, so she might fudge there.

'_Not much.'_

House felt stirrings down below.

'_So, are you feeling firm this morning?'_

"Now that you mention it…"

The feeling only increased as House heard Claudia giggle over the line.

'_I can just see myself running my fingers through your chest hair. Oooh…I just brushed against your nipple!'_

House unconsciously followed her descriptions with his free hand.

As he brushed against his nipple, he gasped. (Partly from arousal and partly from the sensitivity due to hormone shots. He figured he'd just run with the first theory, though. It was a lot more fun.)

Claudia heard him gasp over the line and felt herself become increasingly hot.

"I'm running my hand along your collarbone. Oooh, my finger just dipped a little South."

Claudia followed his description as well.

"Just a little nip below your collarbone…"

Claudia shuddered as his voice dipped a little lower.

Suddenly Claudia heard Foreman's voice, **"Is that the team?"**

"Oh. Uh. No."

The way Greg's voice shot up half an octave was kind of amusing.

"**Marge should be here any minute."** Foreman was talking.

"Do you think I might see you later?" Greg's voice was a bit deeper again.

'_Definitely'_ Claudia whispered before hanging up.

House pressed his lips together and was quite pleased to note that he didn't feel any open sores. Today he would kiss her for the first time in a long while…


	77. Patience and a Patient

(NOTE: Thank you all so much for continuing to read and show support. I apologize for the delay – I've got a big push at work right now. Please excuse any typos!)

Foreman settled on the couch with a journal to wait for Marge to arrive.

He really wanted to ask who House had been on the phone with, but it was really none of his business.

Who would House call?

Wilson, his mother, or Claudia seemed to be the only plausible options.

A few minutes later, he glanced over to see House sound asleep. His breath was coming evenly, so he must not be in too much pain.

Foreman was engrossed in an article when there was a soft knock at the door.

Marge was here and probably trying to be quiet in case House was asleep.

House didn't stir, so Foreman kept his voice down.

"I recorded things for the night, but if you have any questions feel free to call me. I've got to get to work."

Foreman looked back and noticed that House was awake now.

"House, I'll call you once the patient gets in. We can conference on it."

"Get a move on!"

Marge quickly skimmed his chart.

"Good morning, Doctor House. What kind of night have you had?"

House considered ignoring her, but knew that would only delay having to deal with her.

"Okay."

"Any cramps?"

"No."

"Still feel muscle weakness from the muscle relaxers?"

"Not now."

"Good."

Marge proceeded through checking House's vitals and recorded everything.

House rolled his eyes at every request, but cooperated in the interest of expediting the process.

"I see you had a nice bowel movement earlier this morning."

Great – Foreman truly was recording everything.

"I don't know that 'nice' is a word I'd use."

He seriously doubted Foreman had used the adjective 'nice' in his charting. If he had, House might need to disown him as an employee.

"It's good that you have things moving through your system. Do you think you can drink something besides water? You need the calories."

Truth be told, House barely wanted water, but he needed to gain some weight and get stronger because he had to get on with the chemo if he was going to have a shot beating this. Dr. Mathis would probably want to do radiation as well.

"I'll try."

Marge returned with a small bottle of apple juice and plunked a straw in it before handing it off to House.

After a few sips, House set the bottle on the side table.

"I'm going to scramble some eggs. Do you want them with cheese?"

That sounded disgusting.

"No."

"Toast?"

"I'm going to be doing good to eat eggs. Skip the toast."

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

The fellows examined the patient that had just checked in and gathered information for House so that they could conference.

The man was here with his wife. Both looked nervous, but were trying to hide it.

He was wearing gaudy purple silk pajamas and his wife was wearing a mid-knee skirt and a nice blouse. She was wearing what appeared to be a real emerald necklace.

"When will Dr. House be seeing us?" The woman asked

The man contributed, "We transferred here to see Dr. House."

The fellows glanced at one another. Foreman took the question, "We work for him. He's out sick right now, but he'll be consulting."

"Out sick? I come especially to see him and he has the sniffles?"

"Not exactly."

"He needs to get himself in here!"

Chase took over with questions to end this train of conversation.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

House had successfully gotten down about one egg and felt like he was going to vomit.

Marge had prepared and apparently wanted him to eat two.

She sat on the couch and watched him eat. It was obnoxious and a bit creepy. Was she really going to sit there and watch his every action?

"If you don't think you can get more down, you can stop there. I'd rather you eat a little bit and keep it down than eat it all and get sick. We can try again in a couple of hours."

House pushed the plate away and waited for Marge to clean it up. He had always hated dishes and chores. Now he longed to grab his own dishes and traipse into the kitchen. Now, he could barely lean forward to push them away.

On the bright side, his pain was quite manageable at the moment.

His ringing cell phone pulled him out of his musings. He got it from the table.

"House." He barked into the phone.

"Foreman here. Get the equipment turned on – we're ready for you."

Marge had just left with the dishes.

"Marge! Come turn the teleconferencing stuff on!"

"Just a moment, Dr. House."

Just a moment? He needed to do this now!

"Marge!"

Marge came in with a dish towel drying her hands.

She began turning things on. House could tell she was quite adept at this as she got everything ready for him. He wondered when she learned about this kind of equipment.

"My last patient was a CEO who did a good deal of teleconferencing."

"And?"

"You were wondering when I had used this kind of equipment."

She knew what he was thinking – creepy.

The team came into view in the conference room. Everything looked just like always.

He longed to be in there with them.

"Can they see me?" House asked Marge. He had figured it would take a moment to get things connected.

"Yes, we see you."

Chase answered as he was on House's monitor staring.

"History?"

Chase delivered the history, "Patient owns a jewelry shop. He has way too much money for his own good. He's got a really hot wife…"

"Now, now, Chase. You can't bed her until after we cure her husband and get him out of the hospital. He might notice if you have sex with her while he's in the room."

"…who doesn't display any kind of symptoms and seems to be in good health. He went on a geode and gem purchasing trip to Brazil a month ago."

"Does he have an active sex life with the hot wife?"

"Why?" Taub started.

"If they don't have an active sex life she might not realize if he's hooked up with a Brazilian beauty. How often does he go on the little trips?"

"About once a month."

"Does the little wife ever go with?"

"No."

"There you go. The chest is an unusual location, but it's probably an STD. Some people are into weird positions – must be kinky. I want to see the patient and get a look at it."

"You want to see the patient?"

"That is what I said."

The team exchanged doubtful looks.

"Whatever."

His team disappeared from the screen.

"Marge, I want a fresh shirt."

He normally didn't care how he looked, but he didn't want the patient to see how sick he was. A wrinkled shirt from yesterday with some sort of food on it didn't exactly indicate good health.

"What do you want?"

Maybe his nurse was hard of hearing.

"A fresh shirt!"

"I meant, what kind of shirt. I'm sure you have lots."

"Top drawer. Bring me the Metallic shirt."

Marge emerged with a dark blue Metallica shirt and handed it to House.

He carefully pulled it over his head and threaded his arms through the holes as Marge watched.

"You're going to have to help me pull it down."

Marge adjusted the height of the head of the bed as House held himself up with his hands. She reached behind him and pulled the shirt down. It was rather tight over the brace and you could still see that something was under his clothes, but she didn't feel like pointing that out to her prickly patient.

She now had it down as far as it would go.

House was just wearing his boxers, but he figured his patient wouldn't see that much of him.

"Hand me one of those beanies over there and bring me a damp washcloth from the bathroom so that I can wash my face."

Marge was efficient as she followed his requests and got him set up with everything he needed.

"Do you see my glasses on the side table?"

"Yes."

"Move them closer so that I can reach them easier just in case."

Marge scooted the glasses to the edge of the bedside table and awaited her patient's next order.

After washing his face, he handed her the used washcloth and ran his hand over his chin. No stubble – it was weird.

Not only had he lost the hair off his head, he now had no stubble, no chest hair, no eyelashes, and no eyebrows. There was a tiny prickling of hair on his head that appeared since his last chemo session when he had to skip one, but those hairs were barely worth mention. What weirded him out the most was the lack of hair down South. That was just wrong.

He figured he was as close to presentable as he was going to get. Time to see a patient.


	78. The Patient and House

(NOTE: I apologize for the delay! I had some issues with this chapter – I think I'm okay with it now. Let me know what you think!)

The team gathered the equipment and headed to the patient room to set up for House.

"Should we warn the patient that he looks sick?" Chase queried the rest of the group.

Foreman scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Do you really think House would want that?"

Taub chimed in, "Heads up patient, your doctor looks like crap. He is suffering from a life-threatening condition. No worries, though, he'll at least last long enough for a diagnosis."

"Okay, I get the point." Chase huffed and headed to the room with the rest of the team.

"You're about to see Dr. House. He's going to be conferencing here in a minute."

"Oh, he finally cleared away enough tissues to give me a minute of his time…and even now he can't get his lazy butt in here." The patient was still quite irritated.

Foreman turned on the equipment and House came into view.

Apparently he wasn't zoomed in, though. Foreman meant for the patient to only see House's head.

House came into view with the brace around his waist not entirely covered by his t-shirt. His conspicuously casted foot and calf was propped up and pillows were tucked under and around his braced leg. Wilson had set him up with navy blue sheets. He meant well, but House just looked pale and gaunt against the sheets.

Marge was hovering over him helping him get positioned and put everything where he wanted it. House was awkwardly trying to lean forward despite the brace as Marge supported him and put more pillows behind his back.

The team could tell that the patient's eyes were bugging out.

Foreman quickly zoomed in on House's face. Fortunately House hadn't looked at the screen yet and didn't notice the patient staring.

House made sure his head was as upright as possible and looked up. He felt more like sagging against the pillows, but he wanted to look as healthy as possible.

The team saw a quick glint of amusement in House's eyes. Obviously, he was drawn to the patient's attire instead of his facial expression.

"Nice man-lingerie. 100% silk? Personally, I prefer a blend, but I guess whatever makes you feel good. How about the missus? Are you wearing any lingerie under there – is it purple, too?"

Chase snickered – he had wondered what House would say to this patient.

Most patients were usually livid with House's 'introductory comments,' but this guy didn't even seem to hear him.

When the patient didn't react, House got a little pissed.

"Wow...you look sicker than I do." The patient spoke.

"I probably am, but that is neither here nor there. You apparently have lots of money and Cuddy just loves money, thus her star diagnostician is here - or on your monitor anyway. I hear you have a great rash, so let's get with it."

"If you're too sick to treat me, I understand. I mean…if you're not on top of your game, I would hate to receive sub-standard care-"

The team could tell House was livid. He didn't like his abilities questioned.

"Oh, shut up! If I couldn't treat you, would I be here right now? NO! Moving on-

Now the wife was looking quite attentive, "Doctor, if you're not up to it, we can understand. I'm sure that we could transfer to another hospital."

The wife was prim and polite as House seemed to visibly steam.

"SHUT-UP!"

It was completely silent for a moment.

"Foreman, Taub, Chase – be doctors! This isn't a tea party!"

"Dr. House, your heart rate is up and you need to take deep breaths. I think you need to take a break." Marge appeared on the screen approaching House.

"No! Get away from me."

House shoved Marge away and actually made her stagger.

Marge was not one to be deterred.

"Here, at least use the oxygen for a few minutes."

House jerked the mask out of Marge's hand and shoved it over his face.

"Let me see the damn rash."

Chase blocked House's view of the patient and intentionally took a little longer than necessary to uncover the patient's chest.

He was hoping House would have a moment to collect himself and get some extra oxygen in his system.

With the oxygen, House looked a bit better when Chase backed away from the patient, but he was obviously still having trouble.

"Zoom in the camera a bit."

Foreman adjusted the camera to give House a better look. House was holding the mask over his face with one hand and fumbling for his glasses on the table with his other.

Once the camera was zoomed in, House only needed a minute.

"You're a bunch of morons! Do I honestly employ you people? How could you miss something so obvious? It's breast cancer!"

"Um, house...these are on the _surface_ of his chest." Foreman looked at House.

Taub spoke up, "If you can't handle this right now, House...it's okay."

"Inflammatory breast cancer 1-3% of breast cancer cases present this way. Many don't get diagnosed, but fortunately you have me. Cancer cells block the lymph vessels of the skin over your breasts. It is usually found in young women, but obviously there are exceptions. Unfortunately, the many morons who have been your doctors here and elsewhere are clueless. The pitting is caused by edema and fluid build-ups and the warmth is from blocked pores. Open your whole shirt."

The patient was in a bit of a daze – nobody wants to hear a cancer diagnosis. He opened the rest of his shirt like a robot.

"Foreman, zoom in toward his collar bones...raise your arms over your head so I can see your pits. Taub, feel the lymph nodes at his collar bone."

"Nothing unusual."

"Caught it early enough it should be treatable with chemotherapy and surgery."

House ripped the hat off his head.

"You'll be as bald as I am here in a few months. Judging from the pajamas, I'm guessing you're vain enough to buy a toupee. Make sure you use adhesives…I hear strong winds are murder on those things."

"Uh…" The patient spoke.

"You should be fine after treatment. Taub here is a plastic surgeon. I'm sure he could do a nipple reconstruction."

House seemed a little amused now.

"Biopsy to confirm."

"Okay - we'll call you with confirmation."

He was annoyed again.

"Won't be necessary - I know I'm right. Marge, turn it off."

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

The patient had come back to himself.

"A little cocky much?" Asked the wife.

"He has a right to be cocky. He's good." Chase spoke.

"We'll do a biopsy." Chase added.

"If you aren't good enough, maybe we should get somebody else in here. He said you weren't so bright. Get me someone else."

"Gladly."

All three fellows filed out.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to ditch purple pajamas man."

They didn't want to force this guy on Wilson. Besides, Wilson needed to be home with House before too long. After sending one of the oncologists in to deal with him, the three fellows went back to the diagnostics conference room.

Foreman, "I can't believe we missed that."

Chase spoke, "House still has it."

Taub protested, "He has it diagnostically, but he nearly fell apart. He had to have oxygen halfway through the diagnosis. I mean - there are going to be cancer diagnoses. He has to be able to deal with that."

Foreman turned on Taub, "He'll be fine. What were the chances of this case being cancer? He was expecting an infectious disease. He was just caught by surprise. Next time, he'll be prepared."

"I think he was actually mad about his abilities being questioned. The diagnosis wasn't relevant to his being pissed." Chase added.

"If you say so." Taub rolled his eyes on the way out of the room.


	79. The Aftermath

Marge switched off the equipment. The team and patient disappeared as she turned to House.

He was lying with his head tilted back onto the pillow clutching the oxygen mask over his face. He had one hand on his neck measuring his own pulse.

Yesterday he had muted his heart monitor. She was not about to tolerate that. While he was asleep, Marge had set parameters so that an emergency alarm would sound if his heart rate fell or rose to a dangerous rate or made abrupt changes, but it wouldn't beep with each heartbeat.

House seemed to be checking his pulse manually so that he wouldn't have to hold his head up to look at the monitor.

Marge swiftly walked to House's bed and stared straight down at him.

He kept his eyes closed for a few minutes. She had no doubt he knew she was there and was just ignoring her.

House sighed deeply and took his hand off his neck - apparently he was satisfied.

Her patient opened his eyes and stared straight back with a somewhat lazy, tired look in his eyes.

She grabbed the blood pressure cuff and quickly wrapped it around her patient's arm before he had time to protest.

"Dr. House, you don't have to work right now. I've seen all of your billing information - your insurance is paying. You don't need the money."

The tired lazy look had abruptly changed to a determined glare as he tossed the oxygen mask over the side of the bed.

"I know that - I choose to work. I probably just saved that guy's life."

"I understand that, but you have to take care of yourself right now. There are other doctors."

His voice rose, "There aren't other doctors like me! I trained those three bozos and they still didn't get it. They are excellent diagnosticians and they didn't get it, but I did."

House slammed his hand down on the rail dangerously close to his bad leg.

"Besides, I'm bored. I like the puzzle!"

"If you were resting like you're supposed to be, you wouldn't be so bored." Marge kept her voice calm and rational.

"Your logic is crap! What do you suggest? I sit around and listen to fake waterfalls and soothing music? Meditate? Take up knitting?"

"You know good and well that resting doesn't have to-"

House didn't hesitate to cut her off, "I want to diagnose while I still can and you can't stop me! If you don't like it, you can just go screw yourself and-"

His heart rate was up yet again, so Marge decided she had better just cut him off and drop this for now.

"Let me get you something to drink."

Marge needed a moment away from her new patient. He was so intense that she wasn't sure how to deal with him right now.

She had a feeling these dark streaks were something she needed to get used to. This was her first full day with him and he was already trying her nerves.

His last statement of 'while I still can' was ringing in her ears. If it wasn't angrily shouted it might have sounded pitiful, but there was nothing pitiful about this patient. He made these statements with fiery determination. She had seen his files - if he was going to make it, he needed this determination.

Before yelling at him, she had to remind herself that he was her patient. Her job was to take care of him and make sure he was safe, not get him riled up and disgruntled.

After getting him one of the protein shakes Dr. Mathis had asked that he drink, she stopped briefly to lean against the counter and gather her wits.

She surveyed the contents of his kitchen. Wilson had indeed stocked up. There were several lists attached to the fridge.

One was on a letterhead from Dr. Mathis. It indicated a list of foods and beverages House was apparently supposed to be consuming.

Dr. Wilson had totally cleared out the center island of House's kitchen. (Wilson had told her it was actually an antique operating table. Eeek! Who would want that in their kitchen? Somehow it didn't surprise her that Dr. House had one.)

The center island now looked like a miniature pharmacy with all of House's medications lined up. Some were his daily meds and others were for various scenarios that might occur. There was also a bin containing vials of medications House might need in an emergency such as the severe muscle spasms yesterday.

There was a section of the fridge that was dedicated to medications requiring refrigeration.

Some of the medications were taken orally and others were injections.

Thank goodness he had a central line or he would be like a pin cushion. All they had to do was draw up the meds, swab the port with a sterile pad, and inject. Even some of the medications House usually took in pill form Wilson kept as injections as well for if House was nauseated or vomiting.

She had to hand it to him - the man was prepared.

There was also a box filled with bags of fluids and vitamin supplements ready to be hung.

She had time to gather her wits, so she headed back into the living room to find House still fuming.

"Here, try to get this down."

She attempted to hand it over, but he jerked it out of her grasp. His hand shot out again to take the straw.

For the level of exhaustion he exhibited just a few minutes ago, he had more speed than she would have anticipated.

He got about half of it down before he started emitting a noise somewhere between a gag and a cough. Marge approached him immediately.

"I'm nauseated. I can't drink any more of this."

"Let me take it."

House thrust it back at her with a scowl.

"You got quite a bit of it down. Good."

"I don't need your praise. I feel like I'm going to vomit. Go away."

Marge went back to the kitchen and retrieved the meds Dr. Mathis had prescribed for nausea.

"Here."

She dropped the tablets into his hand. They were the kind that dissolves on your tongue.

"No medicine!"

He threw them across the room.

Just great...he was definitely the most difficult patient she had in quite some time.

"Okay. Just be miserable if you want. You'll be too nauseated to get down enough nutrition later."

House knew she was right and he was being irrational.

He watched in his peripheral vision as his nurse went over to the wall and leaned against it staring him down. His stomach was positively churning.

He hated this!

"Give me the damn pills."

Marge brought him the pills and offered him a small, smug smile.

He threw them back in his mouth to dissolve and glared at Marge.

She calmly extended a cup of water and held it right in front of his face. The meds were already dissolved, but it would be best if he could tolerate a small sip to wash all residue down. Still, he ignored her on principle. He thought she might give up, but when he opened his eyes five minutes later the cup was still there.

This woman was not going to leave him alone unless he drank the water.

"Fine!"

She carefully documented everything in his chart. He felt sure she made note of his 'issues' during the differential along with medications taken and protein drink consumed.

"You need to turn on your side for a while to prevent skin breakdown and give your body a break from that position."

House really didn't want to admit how exhausted he was. He wanted to sleep.

"Whatever. Let's get it over with."

"I'm going to support your leg with one hand and rearrange your pillows with the other. Just relax."

"I know the drill. No need to narrate."

"You okay."

"Yeah – go away."

Thankfully House fell asleep once he was on his side.

Once she saw that House was asleep, Marge headed into the kitchen to make something House might eat that wouldn't upset his stomach. Patients usually liked her cooking and were more likely to eat if there was something healthy that also tasted good and was homemade. Also, she had to do something while he slept. She wasn't the type to just sit around reading romance novels. She technically wasn't required to do household duties, but she had the time.

It also gave her some time to think.

No wonder the agency told her he would be an adventure. He was known as a difficult doctor to deal with and doctors usually made the worst patients - this was absolutely no exaggeration. She never worked at PPTH and she still knew his reputation and had heard tales.

There was something fascinating about him, though. Working with him was exhilarating.

Watching his differential diagnosis with his team was really something. She had thought the CEO she worked with held fascinating meetings, but this...there was no way to describe the force he emitted when he realized what was wrong with the patient.

He was in fairly bad shape physically. The orthopedic injuries alone would be enough to deal with or the cancer alone would be enough to deal with. Both? That had to be miserable.

She had worked with patients in worse shape, though. That in and of itself was depressing. She hated seeing people suffering, but it was just part of her job.

She preferred home care like this over inpatient hospital care. She enjoyed getting to know her patients and their families. Being thrust into their lives was always a unique experience. She also only had to deal with one patient at a time and could provide more personalized care.

Marge hated the sterile, impersonal hospital environment. It was nice to be in a patient's homes and know that she was facilitating their recovery. She had full confidence that most people recovered better if they were at home.

She came back in to check on him. As he slept, his face had smoothed out. He looked younger. He still had scabbed over blisters scattered around his mouth and across his lips, but it wasn't bad right now.

His scalp was bare again once he had taken the hat off. He had no eyebrows. There were no eyelashes resting against his cheeks as he slept. Every hair was gone. Some people kept some hair during chemo, but she had seen his records - he received very high doses. The lack of hair made him look a bit alien.

She couldn't see them now, but she had noticed his brilliant blue eyes.

In his normal state, he was probably handsome in a very non-traditional way.

He sighed in his sleep and shifted his arm down as if reaching for his right leg. Even in his sleep, he wasn't totally spared from pain.

He was due for his regular pain meds in about an hour. If he wasn't awake in an hour and a half, she would wake him for the meds. It was important not to let his pain get out of control.

A little over an hour later, she heard his breathing change and saw him stirring a bit with his arms and nuzzling his face into the pillow. He yawned and made a little humming noise before curling and flexing the toes on his left foot. He was actually adorable as he was waking up before he assumed his usual demeanor. He'd probably be appalled if he knew that.

His voice was somewhat rough from sleep when he spoke, "Marge?"

"Yes?"

"Is it time that I can have something for pain?"

"Do you want your regular meds or are you having breakthrough pain?"

"Regular meds."

"Okay."

He started to take the pills dry, but took the cup of water she held out. He slowly drank about half the water and then gave it back.

"Do you want to turn on your back?"

"Let me wait for the meds to kick in."

She would ask most patients if she could get them anything, but she could sense that he didn't want to be talked to right now.

Once his pain meds kicked in he asked to be turned. He wasn't polite, but he wasn't angry anymore, either.

The afternoon ran smoothly.

He was calm and emotionless as she helped him with daily hygiene. Normally she would explain everything as she went, but with him she opted for short phrases as he nodded and gestured to indicate what he wanted.

Dr. Wilson returned at 5:45 on the dot. She packed up and left for the day.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

It was 10 am by the time Wilson was finally free. He felt bad that he wasn't there for House's first night home, but he trusted Foreman and knew that House did as well. Besides, he had a long time patient that had been hours away from death. The patient finally passed on at 9:30 in the morning.

He knew Marge would be with House by now, so there was no point in going home. He had caught a bit of sleep during the night and decided to go ahead with his schedule today.

By 5:30, he wanted to go home and collapse. Unfortunately, he knew House would need him tonight and he needed to go and relieve his nurse soon.

He let himself into House's apartment. He had actually thought about moving House into his condo when he was discharged, but decided he might be more comfortable in his own apartment.

The nurse had survived her first full day with House and seemed none the worse for wear.

House didn't greet him when he got home. This wasn't surprising for House, though, and he didn't take it personally.

House was wearing clean shorts, but he wasn't wearing a shirt. This was easier, though, because House hated having to move his shirt around to dig out the central line every time he needed something. He hated having the heart monitor leads tangled up in his clothing. House was picky about this sort of stuff. To clarify, House was picky about a lot of stuff.

It was uncomfortably warm in the apartment, but he figured House had been cold from the body mass loss. Of course, it didn't help that House was wearing very little clothing and had apparently shoved the sheets and blanket away. Wilson knew from past experience after House's infarction and gunshot wounds that he hated having blankets and such weighing him down when he felt like crap.

Wilson figured he'd just have to get out a fan for himself.

Checking the chart, he was relieved to see that Marge had already helped him with a sponge bath and his basic hygiene was taken care of. Those were a few less things he had to do tonight. Marge had also already gotten him to eat at least some dinner.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that Marge had cleaned every trace of her activities from the kitchen. Judging from the charting, she had apparently cooked eggs, soup, and baked apples. Everything was as clean as if Wilson had done it himself.

Many nurses protested to having to prepare meals or do any household chores citing that as not part of their job, but Marge obviously didn't mind. House obviously couldn't perform these basic tasks himself.

House interrupted him from his thoughts, "Claudia is coming by in thirty minutes or so. Once you let her in, you might as well get some sleep. You look worse than I do."

***Coming soon to a computer screen near you…House and Claudia enjoy some intimate fun***


	80. Intimacy

*NOTE: Hello, dear readers! Thank you for continuing to follow the story and comment. All of your support is greatly appreciated. Please be advised that there is some mature content in this chapter.*

Wilson was already dressed in his pajamas by the time there was a knock at the door. Yes - Wilson wore true pajamas. He wore t he lovely button up kind with a matching robe neatly tied around his waist. They weren't all girly like purple pajamas man, but they still made him look like Ken answering the door to Barbie's mansion.

No matter how annoyed he might have been with her in the past, Wilson was truly thrilled to see Claudia. It wasn't that House really needed that much time-consuming care tonight, but Wilson wanted to sleep. If he was the only one there he would have at least felt obligated to sit in the living room and watch TV or keep House company.

Now, he could take a guilt-free nap and justify it with the notion of giving his friend some privacy. Yep, thank goodness for girlfriends.

"Hello, Claudia. I'm going to sleep for a while. Please wake me before you leave. I want to get a last set of vitals."

The last part was directed at House, who rolled his eyes.

Wilson disappeared down the hall.

Claudia tossed her purse on the couch and went straight to House. She leaned in and planted a kiss straight on his lips. He still had scabbed up lips, but there weren't any open sores.

Gosh, it had been a long time since they could do this! They were only feeling out the possibility of a relationship the last time they shared a true kiss.

Now, they were in what you could call a 'real' relationship. They shared their first 'real' kiss as a couple.

They paused for air and then House placed his palm at the nape of her neck and pulled her in towards him. She hastily kicked off her shoes and scooted onto the bed next to him.

Claudia ran her hands across his smooth chest taking care around his central line without even thinking about it. It seemed it was just part of him.

She was just a tad surprised when House's hands swept down to hastily unbutton her shirt. She jumped just a bit, startled.

House apparently misinterpreted this and pulled his hands back.

Claudia gave him a seductive smile.

"Keep going. You just surprised me."

He didn't hesitate before plunging toward her lips and dropping his hands back to finish the buttons and then free her breasts.

He pulled his lips away from hers.

She immediately felt their absence and groaned in protest until she felt him bob down to nuzzle between her breasts.

It only took a second before he found her nipple and stroked his tongue across it and then blew cool air.

"Hmm...delicious."

She felt his warm breath as he spoke. She thought she might loose it right there, but had to see what else he would do.

He pulled back for a few deep breaths before devoting his attention to her smooth flesh.

His calloused fingertips danced along her ribs lightly hitting the places in between.

How could this man get her so excited without even 'having sex' with her?

She couldn't access much of House's lower body because of the brace, but she did run her hand up his left thigh seductively stroking his flesh as she made her way to his manhood wrapping her hand around him.

He gasped when she touched him and she took the opportunity to thrust her tongue into his mouth.

Greg's hand was already down in her pants parting her folds. He found her clit and had no trouble sending her over the edge.

They didn't have intercourse, but they did both orgasm. She collapsed against his chest as he continued to run his hand up her back.

A few minutes later she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up.

She brought back a warm washcloth to clean Greg up as well. Fortunately the sheets remained clean so they wouldn't have to explain their activities to Wilson.

Claudia also passed him off the rest of his protein drink from earlier.

"You should finish this."

He was just a bit annoyed, but he knew she was right.

Claudia came back into the room. Her shirt was still open and her hair was now a bit messy. She was really a vision.

Greg had longed to be close and intimate with Claudia. What they had just done was awesome. Now he wanted to just be close.

"Take your shirt off totally and come here."

She didn't hesitate to pull her shirt away. Gently climbing onto his bed, she offered up a seductive smile.

House spread his now free left leg to the side to make room for her between his legs. (His right was already firmly spread to the side.)

He leaned the bed back some as Claudia helped him put some more pillows under his braced leg to support it. She put a thick pillow along his inner right thigh to make sure that she didn't accidentally get too close or bump into his leg.

After much resituating, they finally found a comfortable positioned where she was lying back against his chest and left shoulder with both his left arm and leg wrapped around her. His left hand ended up conveniently cupping her breast. Lying flesh on flesh like this was wonderful despite his brace between them. She rested her head under his chin.

House hadn't been this close to another person since Stacy. It was wonderful. He still had endorphins coursing through his body after his orgasm and felt pretty dang good.

It didn't take too long for both of them to drift into a comfortable sleep.

House woke around 2 am because he needed to go to the bathroom. That was quickly placed on the backburner in favor of staring at the gorgeous woman sprawled across his chest. That was the longest and most comfortable stretch of sleep he had in a long time.

Beautiful women should be prescribed as part of treatment.

He watched her sleep for about 15 minutes before she woke up as well.

"Hi." She whispered in his ear.

"Hi, yourself."

She glanced at her watch.

"Yikes. I need to get home to check on Casey!"

She started to jump out of his bed before she thankfully stopped herself and got out of his bed more carefully.

Claudia quickly dressed and grabbed her purse.

"Wake Wilson, will ya?"

"Yes."

Wilson was the last person he wanted to see and having his vitals taken was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was due for pain meds and needed to pee.

Claudia was slightly embarrassed as she went down the hall to the guestroom to wake up House's best friend at 2:30 in the morning. After all, he thought they were just going to have a chat and a nice visit. Well, they certainly had a NICE visit. She giggled before tapping on his door.

It only took a moment for him to come out.

"I'm heading out for the night. See you later."

After delivering a kiss to Greg, she was out the door.

Wilson was quite surprised with how late Claudia stayed and more than a little worried that his friend might not get enough sleep. Well, he wasn't about to complain because he sure slept well. He knew it was also important to have a supportive social network while going through an illness.

He came into the room to find House with almost a half smile on his face.

"Hey, Wilson."

"Did you just greet me and smile? Am I dreaming?"

"Very funny. I need the urinal, my pain meds, some fresh water, and we probably better hang a small bag of fluids and basic nutrients for the night."

"Well, I don't even have to think tonight."

After basic business was taken care of, Wilson came back with all the necessary supplies to find House already swabbing his central line to connect fluids. He hung the fluids and House got everything connected while Wilson charted it. He got out the thermometer and blood pressure cuff to gather all vitals for the evening - or early morning as it now was.

"Seriously? Is all this necessary?"

"If you want your pain meds, you're getting a full set of vitals."

"You know, it's not ethical for Doctors to withold their patient's medications as a form of blackmail."

Wilson proceeded through vitals as House jokingly ranted. He was certainly cheerful to the point that it was creepy.

"I have no idea why you're such a popular doctor because now that I've been your patient, I-"

"You know House, technically you're not my patient so I really don't have to go through all of that ethics stuff. Right now, I'm just your friend helping you out. Maybe I should just sedate you for the night so that you'll shut up and we can both go back to sleep."

House just laughed.

Wilson was in the twilight zone. He better finish this up and get back to bed before something even weirder happened than his cheerful, even though gravely ill, best friend.

"Goodnight, House. Get some sleep. I'll leave my door open. Holler if you need something."

Wilson promptly went back to sleep while House lie awake for a while.

*NOTE: reviews are like chocolate – you never can get enough ;-)


	81. On the Track Again

(NOTE: I'm sorry it has been a bit. Those of you who are still reviewing mean a lot to me! Thank you to everyone who is continuing to follow this - I hope some of you are still out there!)_  
_

_PREVIOUSLY- Claudia has just left and Wilson has taken House's vitals… "Goodnight, House. Get some sleep. I'll leave my door open. Holler if you need something." Wilson promptly went back to sleep while House lie awake for a while._

Now that his endorphins had faded, he was hurting.

He did fall asleep, though, and it was soon morning. Morning came with Wilson scurrying around getting ready for work and Marge standing at the foot of his bed marking his chart.

She had already disconnected his IV and was pouncing on him to take vitals as soon as he was awake.

Well, at least she didn't wake him up like they often did when he was inpatient.

It wasn't worth fighting. He obediently thrust his arm out without her asking. She drew several vials of blood and passed them off to Wilson as he went to work. He would go to the lab first thing.

Blood pressure, temperature, all the fun morning stuff.

Marge was now prepared to assault him with her stethoscope. She got it positioned at the edge of his brace.

"Deep breath, Dr. House-"

"Just call me House - all the doctor stuff is getting annoying."

"Fine, but shut up so I can listen."

House sighed and then continued to breathe deeply as she moved the stethoscope.

"Cough."

The cough rattled his brace and he winced from his hip, but he sucked it up and coughed again.

"Let me listen from your back."

Fun times. All the shifting necessary to listen to his back was a real drag.

"Okay - relax. You sound fine."

"I could have told you I was fine."

"Yes, why ever test anything when you can tell me everything going on..." Marge knew how to get her sarcasm on to deal with this patient.

"Exactly. You see my point."

Marge was somewhat surprised with how compliant her patient was this morning. She even got a small smile out of him.

Everything was smooth sailing so far.

"I see you got a lot more breakfast down today."

"I want to try to get some more food down every hour. I'm already running late on my next dose of chemo."

"Okay."

He was even motivated this morning. He was drastically underweight and that was holding back every other healing process.

House, Wilson, Marge, and Claudia developed a routine over the next few days. House was grateful to be home and was enjoying time to be closer to Claudia.

Wilson was a lot more cheerful and pleasant in general.

Marge was getting used to her prickly patient and was good at dealing with him, his job, his condition, and his moods.

He had solved another case and was enjoying conferencing from home.

Things were looking good that he would probably be taking another round of chemo in a couple of days.

It was good that he could start active treatment again and he was grateful in terms of recovery, but he was less than thrilled about going back into the hospital.

There was no way he could do the chemo at home, though. They needed imaging equipment at ready and it had taken a lot of nurses when he started having side effects last time.

If he was lucky, he'd only have to stay a couple nights.

They were going to do a slightly different mix in an effort to avoid as much bloating and gastric issues as last time. Mathis was still bombarding him with strong stuff, but a tweaked mix of strong stuff.

He figured he should say goodbye to the little prickles of hair popping up on his head and chin.

He enjoyed one last intimate night with Claudia before it was time to go back into the hospital.

Casey was doing well and Claudia had a lot more time for her boyfriend.

Marge was on hand to help get him loaded into the hospital van.

She assured Wilson that she wouldn't take another patient while House was in the hospital. She would take care of him again when he got out. The both hoped for a short stay. Since he had found a nurse that could deal with House, Wilson was not about to let her go. Wilson had expected House to go through multiple nurses, but they had made a lucky find. Wilson even offered to pay her while House was in the hospital, but she refused.

Truthfully, a short vacation would be good.

Now that he had gotten used to being at home, House was afraid he'd have more trouble being cooped up in the hospital. He didn't want to express these fears to anyone, though.

Several winces, grunts, and pissed off exclamations later, House was being unloaded at the hospital.

First thing when he got to the hospital, they did some more detailed blood draws and then took him up for fresh x-rays.

He got admitted and settled in a private room that Cuddy had insured would be available for him.

Mathis came in.

"Are those my x-rays?"

"Yep. Good news for you. New fracture callus on all sites. Your right hip looks particularly good."

"Femur?"

"Not as good, but still some progress."

"Any idea when I can get out of the brace?"

"We're nowhere near there. Here, take a look."

House held all the x-rays up to the light one at a time. Damn, his leg was in bad shape. It was a good bit better, though. Even though he was a pessimist, he would have to stay positive. He could give this news to Claudia. He was afraid that if he didn't start getting better, Claudia might not be able to deal with it.

Being able to kiss was progress, though.

Mathis was a bit freaked out to see the soft smile and almost wistful look on his face. Did he have a personality transplant?

Mathis suddenly jerked him out of his thoughts.

"If you're right hip keeps improving, we might be able lower the brace on your torso."

"That'd be nice. Chemo?"

"You're good to go for chemo. Blood counts aren't great and your weight is still too low, but we can swing this. I'm going to go ahead and start you on octreotide so that we can head off the gastrointestinal problems. Hopefully you won't lose as much weight. You've gained a bit back - let's not go backwards. The otreotide is short term."

"It better be."

His pissed scowl reassured her that her patient was definitely still in.

"I'll send a nurse in to put some meds on what's left of your mouth sores and then we're going to do cold therapy again. Any questions?"

"No."

"A nurse will be in shortly."

"Yeah."

He was willing to bet Wilson would be here any minute.

Yep, he could hear the loafers clacking down the hall and through his door.

"I thought they were sending a nurse. I could see where you could get confused and think they meant you."

Wilson had gotten used to his friend's jabs a long time ago. Truthfully, he was grateful to hear them. His best friend was still in the sickly body lying in the bed in front of him.

"Hey, you set up for chemo?"

"Yes. Soon."

Wilson settled down with his magazine and propped his feet up. House thought about asking him to leave, but decided he might want the company anyway.

The nurse brought in the meds he would need before the chemo and got him all set up.

"Thirty minutes now to get this started in your system, and then we'll get you hooked up."

House didn't speak. He just waited for the nurse to leave.

"Wilson, it better not be as bad this time."

Wilson looked over and saw the hesitant expression and worry on his friend's face.

"I've seen Mathis's plans. I think it will go better this time."

"I hope so because I don't know if I can take it."

"You can do it. You'll make it, House."

"You ever had one of your patients tell you that they were scared?"

Wilson put his hand over House's at this. Only House would try to state his fears as a subtle question.

"Of course. If you weren't a little bit scared I'd think you were crazy."

Normally, this would creep him out a bit, but House actually needed this contact right now.

He was actually regretting his decision in telling Claudia to stay away. He was just scared he would have gas and diarrhea like last time and didn't want her here for that. It was less than romantic.

After squeezing Wilson's hand once, he settled back in bed.

"You good to do this?"

"Yes. I'm good."

House told himself he could do more chemo. He knew he could.

"Okay, because here she comes." Wilson looked at his friend. He still looked awful, but he had a somewhat positive air about him ever since that night Claudia had stayed late.

"Here we go...fun times." House took a gulp and braced himself for this.


	82. Chemotherapy

Thank you all for sticking with this – reviews are appreciated!

_Previously: House is in the hospital starting his session of chemo with Wilson and a nurse present._

Wilson started to take the meds and equipment from Linda, but House scowled at him, "Just let her do her job, you control freak."

"Thanks, Linda." Wilson always had to be polite.

"It's delightful that you know all the nurses' names."

"-and annoying that she treats you and you have no idea what her name is."

"Oh, whatever. If you're going to be like that, you can just go away."

"I'll shut up. Don't forget to keep sucking on-"

"Yes, I know: suck on the ice cubes so that I don't get a bunch of open sores again. I've even got the iced cloth against my lips - or I would if you'd quit asking me questions."

"Sorry, Linda. He just gets so cheerful."

"It's fine - we got used to him last time he was in."

She wouldn't admit it, but Linda got quite a kick out of House's antics. At least he wasn't boring.

"Hopefully I won't be in near as long this time."

"Let's hope so for all our sakes. Need anything?"

"For you to go away."

"Sure thing, Dr. House."

Linda patted his shin and shot him an amused glare.

House felt like Wilson's eyes were boring into him. Wilson had ridden in the van with him and followed him like a leech ever since he got to the hospital. He sat in the radiology booth, did his blood draws, took his blood pressure - it was like the man thought he was the only employee in the freakin' hospital. Sometimes House wanted a friend instead of a doctor or nurse. He had to have Wilson's medical help at home, but not here. He felt so dependent.

House and Wilson sat in awkward silence for almost an hour until Wilson's pager went off.

"I've got to go. Patient crisis. I'll come check on you later. No side effects so far is a good sign."

About 5 minutes later, the side effects kicked in.

House began yelling.

"Linda, I'm burning up and sweating all over the place! Get me a fan or something."

"You know, the call button is designed so that you don't shout down the corridors. Dr. House, you have a fever."

"No joke. I feel like my head is going to explode!"

"Headache?"

"Yes and I'm about to drown in my own sweat."

"Let me get Dr. Mathis."

"Hurry! Damn."

Dr. Mathis calmly entered as if nothing was wrong as House ranted.

She spoke calmly, "Fever, headache, irritability...any other side effects?"

"I'm not irritable - I'm just sweaty, and I have a headache!"

"Linda, get a cooling blanket. Kathy, get the antipyretics"

"It's burning up in here!"

"Dr. House, quit shouting. We're going to get you cooled down. I'm going to increase your fluids. Here's Linda with an ice blanket."

Mathis subtly spoke to Linda, "Put a towel over his brace first."

"Okay, House. Move your arms a little bit. Deep breaths...Kathy, get him some oxygen."

Linda put a thin towel over the brace covering his torso before getting the ice blanket over him.

"The headache is from the damn octreotide you gave me! My head is killing me!"

"Next time we'll try a different anti-diarrhea now that we know that you get side effects from octreotide. I've given you something for the headache. If you don't get any relief, we'll try something else."

"Fever isn't a side effect of octreotide." House was yelling.

Dr. Mathis figured he probably thought he was speaking at normal volume, but he was actually yelling.

"Chemo can cause fever - your hormone therapy increases the chance."

Looks of confusion and then fear passed over House's features.

"I know that...I just can't think because of the headache. I can't believe that didn't occur to me - am I losing it? I know medication interactions. I use medications to not only treat, but diagnose. These things always occur to me. I can't diagnose if I can't think of these simple connections!"

"News for you House: you aren't working at this precise moment and you're just panicking. You're not losing anything, your sats are low, and you're not thinking straight. Quit talking and keep that mask on you face."

"I can't think and I have a headache. Do something!"

"I understand that you have a headache, we're working on it."

Dr. Mathis was attempting to soothe the frantic House.

"But I have a headache! My head hurts! I can't think."

Linda held the oxygen against his face as they watched his sats.

"Headache…my head-" House was mumbling something and thrashing his head. She had the sedative ready in case he got anxious enough that he might hurt his fragile body.

He was obviously out of it. Mathis could definitely tell she was going in circles. He was so logical for a few minutes here and there, and then he'd go on telling her the same things and yelling.

Claudia lightly knocked before poking her head around the corner.

"Greg?"

Dr. Mathis spoke instead, "Claudia, come here."

Mathis was highly relieved to see House's girlfriend come in. Maybe someone familiar and not associated with medicine would help.

"Claudia, he's panicking. Come hold his hand."

Linda spoke up, "Dr. Mathis, he's still got a bit to go on the chemo drip. Do you want me to disconnect?"

"No, we can get his fever under control - let's finish the course. The octreotide is already in his system - it'll have to run its course. There was little chance of this reaction, but..."

"I'm just that lucky." House was close to screaming, but trying to pay attention to conversation to distract himself.

"Claudia? Is that you?" House was pulled from his thoughts as he noticed her.

He stuck his hand out in her general direction and she grabbed his groping hand.

"Yeah, baby. It's me – I'm right here." She ran her thumb over his knuckles reassuringly.

He stared at Claudia before rapidly blinking and moving his head.

Linda returned with a bowl of cool water and several washcloths.

"I have a headache."

"Okay." Mathis tried to sound reassuring.

"Claudia, start wiping down his face and lay cool washcloths across his forehead."

She pulled up a chair and did as the nurse instructed.

"Tengo dolor de cabeza."

Claudia noticed that his eyes had gone somewhat blank like he was no longer seeing her.

Linda didn't even flinch and spoke very matter of fact, "-and now he's speaking Spanish. He did this last time he was in the hospital."

Mathis hadn't been in the room for that, "Really?"

"Tengo fiebre en mi cuerpo. Necesito agua."

Linda grabbed a cup and moved the oxygen mask long enough to slip a straw in his mouth so that he could have a drink of water.

He was silent for a few minutes.

He met her eyes again with a different intensity. It was for her to watch as he seemed to flit in and out of awareness.

He closed his eyes, though, when he was obviously concentrating to breathe.

Mathis saw this, "Increase his oxygen. His heart rate is up."

Claudia began to massage his hand as she knew this had helped in the past when he couldn't rest.

Mathis spoke in Claudia's ear, "Whatever you're doing is helping."

Claudia watched Mathis inject something else into Greg's central line just as the chemo was running out. They detached the chemo bag and a nurse removed the used supplies.

The other nurse flushed saline through the lead that the chemo had been attached to. Claudia knew from Casey's treatment that they had to get any residue from the chemo out of the lines.

Mathis and Linda watched his monitors even when he seemed to have calmed down.

Claudia looked at his monitors, but didn't understand everything she was looking at. Greg had so many wires coming off of him.

Linda grabbed a little printout from one of the machines and handed it to Dr. Mathis.

House was calm again.

Mathis made a few notes and nodded at Linda.

Claudia saw House watching her from his half-lidded blue eyes.

Mathis left, but Linda got House's attention. "Try to get some rest. We'll be monitoring your temperature closely. If the headache gets really bad again, page us. We'll help you with a sponge bath later."

House did feel sticky with sweat, but he really didn't care at this point.

His headache had gone from raging rock concert complete with fireworks, to the garage band next door that won't quit. The pain was bearable, but it sure was persistent.

Claudia watched as he fell asleep within 5 minutes of the nurse clearing out. He was still on oxygen and his color was awful, but at least he was sleeping.

She stayed, but grabbed her laptop and sat back to get some work done while he was asleep. She didn't want him to be alone when he woke up.

She looked out in the hall and saw Mathis and Wilson quietly conversing. Mathis left and Wilson slumped against the wall and took several deep breaths before quietly walking into House's room.

"How's he doing?"

"Asleep." She didn't know why he bothered asking her since he knew more about it medically. All she knew was that she stopped by to check with Greg and found a disaster.

She gestured with her head for Wilson to go out in the hall with her.

"So, what exactly happened?"

"Tried some new meds to help with the side effects and he had a reaction."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"He'll have the mother of all headaches for a couple of days along with other chemo side effects, but he'll be as okay as before."

"Oh."

"I should have sent another doctor to my other patient and stayed with House. He had been okay and I thought the meds to help with side effects were working and that he'd be fine. I can't believe I left-" Wilson was rambling and fretful.

Claudia watched as he paced the hall stopping periodically to rub his neck and run his hand through his hair.

This was obviously productive

He was driving her nuts, but she couldn't quite ignore him. Even though she wasn't really friends with Wilson, he was House's best friend. They shared a connection in that they both cared about House.

She felt an obligation to House to keep his best friend from going off the deep end.

"Wilson!" She grabbed his bicep.

"What!"

"House has told me about your freaky guilt complex. I hope you realize that you can't actually prevent side effects by being in the room. You're not God."

"I could have at least, you know…"

"Ordered meds? Held his hand? Spread out an ice blanket? Changed his IV? Talked to him?"

"YES!"

"All those bases were covered. He had Dr. Mathis, me, and two nurses."

"I know – it just seems like something happens when I leave the room."

"Maybe, but everything isn't on you. That's the whole point of being in the hospital. There are lots of people, meds, and equipment for when things happen. Don't try to take responsibility for things you can't control."

Wilson stopped and stared at the ceiling.

"You're right."

Claudia gave him a little smile, "Of course I'm right. I already know that."

"It's no wonder House likes you."

"What happens now?" Claudia hated seeing him in the hospital bed. Even when there were people all around him, a hospital felt cold and isolated.

"I know he's going to want to go home and will get depressed if we try to keep him in the hospital too long. As long as the fever is gone and he doesn't have any other unexpected complications, I'll TRY to take him home tomorrow night. There are so many variables, though. I can't plan that far in advance with where he is right now."

"I think he'd appreciate going home."

"After all, he has an oncologist staying with him. I'm going to take a couple days off work and get another doctor on call for my cases. In the grand scheme of things, for the strength of chemo we're hitting him with, he held up really well for this session. I mean, he's not out of the woods for reactions. He'll keep having effects; it's just the acute immediate reactions to the toxicity of the meds."

After hearing something from House's room, they both turned to see him throwing up into an emesis basin.

"Like I said, he'll still have side effects."

Wilson jogged in to check on him.

"Hey, I see you're awake now."

"Yep, nice and awake. Nauseous."

Wilson grabbed his chart.

"I can give you a dose of zofran for the nausea?"

House dropped his head against the pillow. "Bring it on."

"Right back." Wilson squeezed House's left foot on his way out.

Claudia came in and kissed his forehead.

House's eyes popped open.

"Oh, I'm so gross. I just threw up."

"I don't care."

"I feel gross, though."

Claudia wet a washcloth and wiped his face down.

Wilson came back, prepped House's central line and injected the zofran.

"I'm going to try to go back to sleep."

His eyes started watering.

"Right after I barf."

Wilson shoved the emesis basin under House's chin as he threw up a little bile and then continued with dry heaves.

Claudia rubbed House's upper back while Wilson handed him tissues to dab his watery eyes.

"I think I have a fever again."

"Yes, you do. Not as bad as earlier. It's time that I can give you another dose of the antipyretic and get a fresh ice blanket."

The current blanket had lost its effectiveness.

House just croaked, "Okay."

Nurses swarmed until House was once again covered with an ice blanket.

This time they got the fever under control before he started mentally drifting into foreign languages.

Wilson was there and could prescribe for House, so Mathis wasn't around.

House was left with just Wilson and Claudia.

Claudia had little to do, so she just wiped the sweat off House's forehead.

"Wilson, I know this is kind of inconvenient, but can I lie on my side for a while?"

House was covered with an ice blanket and was situated with towels to cover his brace and such.

"Of course, let's just get the ice blankets and towels off of you and grab a nurse."

"I think I'm too tired to help turn myself, so might want an extra nurse."

They knew it took a lot for House to admit that.

"Sure." Wilson called a couple nurses and got things removed until House was good to move.

Wilson was off for the afternoon, so spent the rest of a thoroughly miserable day and evening with House.

Claudia and Wilson talked about the night. They didn't need to both spend the night at the hospital, but one of them should stay in case he woke up agitated. Wilson would need his energy for if House came home, so Claudia told him she would spend the night.

Wilson was reluctant to leave, but Claudia practically forced him out the door.

When she came back in the room, she found fairly alert blue eyes looking at her.

He pulled the oxygen mask away from his face.

"You get rid of Daddy?"

He could always make her laugh.

"Yes, I guess you could say that."

"Hand me that."

He gestured toward the side table with supplies. Claudia handed him a bag.

All she could do was watch as her boyfriend disconnected his oxygen mask.

He was such a child – a child with medical training.

She was at least thankful to find that the bag she had handed him contained a nasal cannula that he hooked himself back up with after fiddling with the setting. He proceeded to adjust his IV as well.

Maybe she should tell the staff not to leave his equipment within reach of the bed.

"What?" He looked at her innocently.

"Do you need the chart to make a note?" She sarcastically asked him.

"The nurses will figure it out when they come in to change my IV"

Claudia just rolled her eyes and leaned in for a peck on the lips.

HOUSE MD

The next morning, House was doing quite a bit better, but still not cleared to leave. He had no fever and his heart rate was stable, but he was still on oxygen.

The minute Wilson entered the room, House was already on him, "I want to go home."

That was the only thing about House being home for a while was that now it would be harder for him to tolerate time in the hospital.

Wilson sighed, "You're still on oxygen. You're breathing isn't totally stable."

"They make these things called portable oxygen tanks that I could go home with. You've also got a full set up in my apartment, Mr. Paranoid."

"I'll talk to Dr. Mathis."

"You're the one that stays with me. You're the only one that has to approve."

"Nice try, but Mathis is your attending."

Wilson left the room.

As soon as Wilson cleared, House reached over to dial down the oxygen.

"Greg, what are you doing?" Claudia had a pretty good idea what he was doing.

"If I can taper the oxygen down and I can be off it, I'm sure they'll be more receptive to releasing me."

"Great. We'll just hope real hard that you don't need that oxygen. I'll stand by in case you pass out." Claudia was sarcastic and frustrated with her boyfriend.

Fifteen minutes later Claudia had to roll her eyes when he boyfriend reached over to adjust his oxygen again.

She had also watched him get slightly paler over the past few minutes. She wasn't a doctor, but she did know that blood carried oxygen...

A nurse entered to check House's vitals.

"You're seriously going to check my vitals again?"

"That would be correct." The nurse smirked before proceeding with House's vitals.

"Your oxygen saturation has gone down."

The nurse walked to check his oxygen.

She looked at his chart again before checking the machine.

"Fascinating. Your oxygen turned itself down and now your sats have gone down. What a coincidence."

House just sighed as he felt the oxygen flow increase.

"Thank you so much for adjusting that." He sarcastically acknowledged the nurse

Fifteen minutes later, Claudia spoke, "Your color is improving."

"Thanks. I'm glad my looks are improving."

House pretended to preen.

They sat in comfortable silence.

Claudia was concerned as House gasped, squinted his eyes, and reached for his temple.

"What is it?" She reached for his shoulder.

He pushed her away and hissed, "Turn the lights out."

Twenty minutes later, House relaxed.

"Headache passed."

"You okay?"

"I feel fabulous. I am obviously the picture of good health - that's why they won't release me from the hospital."

He looked considerably worse after the headache. It had apparently drained him.

Wilson came back in the room.

"I hear you decided to taper off your oxygen. If there aren't any other complications before this evening then we might be able- what happened?"

"What do you mean? Nothing has happened." House's protest was weak.

"Your color looks off."

Wilson started examining House's eyes. "Hmmm."

"He had a headache." Claudia spoke up.

"Traitor." House whispered at Claudia along with a glare.

"Was it as bad as yesterday?"

"It was just a little twinge." House attempted to defend himself.

"We'll evaluate you again later."

"Fine." House was obviously pouting.

"Go away."

Claudia and Wilson exchanged looks before leaving.


	83. Prep

*NOTE: Thanks for continuing to read, review, alert, and favorite! This chapter is a bit transitional, but it's here anyway. It'll pick up again soon. I still don't own House or any of the program's characters, locations, etc.*

Marge answered her cell phone. She wasn't surprised to find it was Wilson. After all, her patient was currently in the hospital.

"How is House doing?"

"Not so great. His fever is gone, but he is still on oxygen and having headaches. He wants to come home."

"Well, is he stable?"

"Yes, I'm just not sure-"

"If he's stable and you can get him home, I'll be over whenever. I can stay overnight if he needs me to. If he wants to be home, then he'll probably be more comfortable there."

"I'll see what I can do and let you know later."

"Okay."

Marge wasn't surprised. She doubted her patient would be in the hospital long if there was any way around it.

HOUSE M.D. FANFICTION

Mathis appeared in House's hospital room.

Claudia had returned and was just sitting and working next to House in what seemed to be a comfortable silence.

"Headaches?"

"Earlier today - I don't have one now."

"No fever, blood pressure and heart rate are stable...can you breath okay as long as you have the oxygen?"

"Yeah. I think I may be anemic right now. Blood draw show it earlier?"

"Yes, I've already prescribed a supplement for you. If you're still stable by 6pm, I'll let you go as long as Wilson, your nurse, or a member of your team is there at all times. Sound like a deal?"

"Sounds like a plan. I can do a couple more hours."

"You say that as if we're holding you in prison."

"If the shoe fits..."

"I do have something that should make you happy."

"You about to pop out of a cake in a thong?" He pretended to ponder that image before making a face, "That would actually make me more frightened than happy. Now if you could bring the cake for Claudia to pop out of…"

Claudia laughed and swatted House's shoulder lightly.

"Cute. Actually, a couple of orderlies are about to come get you and take you to the casting suite to lower your brace some."

Now that was something that made him happy.

"I'm going to go ahead and mark it off and they'll trim it with a cast saw."

Mathis called a nurse in.

"I'm going to lower the bed flat. Just support his shoulders and make sure he stays in the same position."

She carefully felt the contours of his brace around his right hip. She grabbed a marker from her lab coat and drew a neat dotted line around his brace so that the brace would end just above his belly button.

"It'll only be a little bit, but you should at least be more comfortable. Your shoulder blades shouldn't feel awkward when you're moving around and you'll be able to lean forward a bit to help with dressing. I just can't take off too much because you still need the support not only for you hip, but especially for the head of your femur and the femoral shaft fracture."

Anything would be better than this. He currently could do nothing toward leaning forward more than hunch his shoulders and he couldn't move laterally at all. Even getting rid of a few inches of the brace would be nice. He had a long torso anyway, so this would make quite a difference.

"I'll be back to check the brace when they're done. A physical therapist will follow them to check ROM of your vertebrae. Don't try to move too much at first because you'll make yourself sore and you will have lost quite a bit of tone in your abdominals."

She knew these warnings were pointless to Greg House. He'd stretch himself to the max and probably be sore, but she'd at least covered her bases. He'd have nobody to blame except himself.

"If you're feeling too tender, I may keep you tonight."

"I won't be."

"That'll be my decision. If we can't agree on that, I'll send you home in the brace as is..."

"Fine." House ground this out between his teeth and sent Mathis a glare.

"I'll see you later."

House's afternoon was occupied in the orthopedics suite.

Mathis had also decided they could change out the padding around his right thigh. It was itchy and House had shown no mercy complaining to Dr. Mathis. She decided his fractures were stable enough as they cut away the stale, sweaty looking padding and added fresh.

She checked in on him between her other appointments and inspected the musculature, or lack there of, around his bad thigh.

His leg had to be x-rayed again once the brace was closed. He had to wait around before they would move on to his torso.

Before anything could be done to his torso, they had to move him again and get him up on their largest table and get his leg propped up. He was very uncomfortable and had a dull headache.

It took a nurse and 2 techs to finally start cutting away at his brace. The nurse supported his back while the techs worked. He ended up shedding about 5 inches of the brace all the way around his torso.

The hum of the cast saw was grating on his headache, but he sucked it up. He figured Mathis would be fine with keeping him a few more days and doing this later, but he was not fine with that plan.

They cut away the excess padding to reveal his scabby, nasty skin.

"The edge of the brace is a bit rough now, so I'm going to cover the edge with some mole-skin."

They spent about 45 minutes cutting strips of moleskin and carefully folding them over the rough edge of his brace. He figured these people had to have something better to do. Couldn't they just slap a hunk of moleskin on there whole and just kinda stick it down? It was a good thing his job never involved this kind of thing because he didn't have the meticulous patience required.

After the moleskin, they neatly folded over the liner and secured that.

"Okay. You should be good to go."

Next, the therapist tech came in, gloved up and felt along his spine. She supported his torso while instructing him to GENTLY lean laterally. He humored her until she left.

Dr. Mathis returned and was satisfied that he'd still be fine.

"If your abdominals get sore or the lack of support makes you uncomfortable, get your nurse to wrap a thick layer of elastic bandages around your torso where the brace was. Remember, you've been in the brace a few months and you're weaker than you realize."

"I am acutely aware of the fact that I've been in this thing a while!"

He was in it a while before he could even start chemo and then all through the treatments thus far.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No."

"See you later, House."

Actually, he did have a question.

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"When do you think you will want to do the prostate surgery?"

"Right now we are watching your prostate to see if the cancer is shrinking and reacting to the chemo. If we remove it now, we won't be able to get a visual on if the cancer is reacting. You're keeping the tumor for now."

He just nodded at Mathis before she turned to leave.

His headache was ramping back up. He'd never admit it, but he was dreading the drive home. He wanted to be in his apartment, he just didn't want the trip there.

Once he was fixed up, Wilson came in to talk to him about prep to go home.

He instructed Wilson to pilfer some extra moleskin, tape, and other supplies just in case the brace started rubbing or anything. He wasn't going to need it, but he decided to have Wilson take some of the heavy grade ACE bandages as well just in case he got sore. He had quite a bit of stuff at home, but he had no qualms about helping himself to stuff from the hospital, much to Wilson's chagrin.

The look of scandal on Wilson's face was enough to keep him amused for a while.

Between his time in the orthopedics suite and bugging Wilson, it should be almost time to go home.


	84. Life

Hello readers. I regret to post that I am going to have to put this story on hold. An event in real life has come up and I am currently halting all fanfiction pursuits.

I appreciate all of your support throughout the writing process. It has meant a lot to me. I never meant to postpone finishing this story, but I must.

I profoundly apologize to all of you who have been following this story and I hope that you understand.


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